City of Delusion
by Muse-icfan756
Summary: Belldom AU. My entry for Nanowrimo 2012 so probably appalling grammar and spelling mistakes, but I'll go through and redo it once it's complete. It's the year 2020 and Dominic Howard has just moved to Exeter to start his university course. Whilst there, he notices some strange things going on and is determined to find out who's behind it all.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this was my entry for NanoWrimo 2012. I'm currently going through and editing all the chapters (with help from my friend), and it should all be nice and correct by June. Hope you enjoy!**

I'll admit that I wasn't doing a good job of convincing myself that everything would be alright, but things could've been worse. The car journey down to the West Country had thankfully been uneventful, which put my mind a little more at ease, but it was still difficult to relax when I knew what was ahead of me. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy meeting new people, but I hadn't had an experience like this since the beginning of high school. Knowing that the people I was about to meet could affect my entire future was a little bit too daunting for such an early hour that Friday morning.

I had Rage Against the Machine going at full blast from my car radio to wake up my groggy brain, and by the time I passed the Devonshire border, my ears were ringing. I felt my palms slipping against the steering wheel as the nerves kicked in, my free leg shaking and knocking against my arms. I turned the volume down on the music, wanting to make the best first impression I could. Admittedly, it's quite difficult to do so when you rattle into town in a car that looks like it might break down any moment, loud music playing and the boot stuffed with bags.

What? I just have a lot of clothes. You didn't expect me to leave them at home, did you?

_Although_, I thought to myself as I reached the outskirts of the town, this _is home now_. Welcome to your new life, Dominic. I passed an off-coloured sign welcoming me to Exeter and nodded my head at it, peering at road signs so that I wouldn't get lost on the way to my new 'apartment'. A strange shudder ran through me and I laughed at my own anxiety, choosing to focus on not driving off the road. My ringtone began blaring out in a horrific clash with the music and I leapt out of my seat, muting the radio and pulling over to the side of the road to relieve myself of the noise.

"Hello?" I called into the receiver, frowning.

"Dominic? Are you there yet?" I heard my mother ask me frantically and I sighed at her over-protectiveness.

"Mum, I've only just crossed the border. Right this moment." I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to her, but I'd only left home a handful of hours ago. I was enjoying my freedom, despite my nerves.

"Oh, okay then. You weren't as quick as I was expecting you to be." There was a pause. "Wait, Dominic, are you driving? You know you're not supposed to use the phone whilst driving, Dominic. You could get hurt!"

"Mum, I pulled over especially to take your call," I reassured her. "Don't worry yourself so much; I remember everything I was taught." I heard a sigh of relief from the other end of the line.

"I'm just worried about you, Dommie." I rolled my eyes but retained my patient tone.

"Mum, I'll be _fine_. We only saw each other a few hours ago."

"It feels like years. I don't know how I'll cope without you in the house." I chuckled softly, feeling slightly sorry for my mother. It was difficult to leave my family behind, but it had to be done if I wanted my dreams to come true.

"You've still got Emma to keep you company, Mum. And now you can have your girly time without me interrupting." Her laugh was tinged with sadness; perhaps, like me, she was remembering the times I'd walked in on my mother and sister gossiping about other females in the village. Mortifying for me, but rather amusing for the two women.

"True, true. Just, _oh, _stay safe, Dominic. I'll call you every day, okay?" I tried to stop my horror from seeping into my voice, not wanting to offend her by telling her how uncomfortable that would be.

"If you want to, Mum. Just don't worry if I'm not there to answer. I'm going to be really busy in the first few weeks, getting settled in and going to lectures, you know."

"Of course, Dommie. Well, I must dash now, anyway. Need to get Emma to school, now that you mention her. Have a wonderful time today, sweetie. And stay safe." Even through the phone, her orders were clear.

"Of course, Mum. And you too." I put the phone down after she kissed me threw the phone and ran a hand through my mussed blonde hair, my mother's call stressing me out even further. My schedule was jam-packed for the following weeks; the new university undergraduates had introductory days planned, I had lectures to go to, people to meet, a room to 'decorate'...the list seemed endless.

_Welcome to the life of a university student, Dominic, _the sarcastic voice in my head commented. I put the car back into gear and continued travelling, minus the music, to my new place. It was the cheapest place going, right next to the train station, and I was sharing the floor with four other students. I was hoping to get along with them well, having a fairly good history with most of the boys in our area. People told me that I was easy to get along with and I could only hope that would transfer to my position as a new kid.

Reminding myself that we were all in the same boat, I pulled up on the street outside our flat and scanned the building. It was simple red brick, fairly monotonous in shape and obviously not looked after too well. In some of the windows I could see people's belongings decorating the windowsills, giving it a slightly more homely look. I slowly put my CD back in its case and got out of the car, locking the door behind me and looking up at the building in front. Fetching my rucksack from the boot of the car, I set off in search of my room.

Entering the building, I found the halls to be eerily quiet. I'd been expecting music, maybe loud laughter or at least the chatter of other new arrivals, but there was nothing to be heard. My footsteps echoed in the silence.

I peered at the list of floor numbers on the wall and fetched my floor key from the receptionist before heading up the stairs. There were posters covering the walls advertising the introductory days that we'd already signed up for, and there was also a vending machine on every floor I passed. Other than those features, there was nothing that stood out to me at all. My flat was on the top floor and, when I reached it, I began to regret leaving my suitcases in the car. I didn't really fancy lugging them up and down the stairs with me again, but now there was no going back now. I glanced out of the window for second before entering my room, checking on the car. The road was cluttered with other vehicles, so much so that it would probably inhibit the driving on said road. As I watched, I saw a brief flash of bright blue. My eyebrows knitted together as I peered down, but there was nothing unusual to be seen. Shaking my head, I wiped my clammy palms on my jeans and twisted the key in the lock.

"Intruder alert!" a male voice yelled. A bright foam disc flew at me from somewhere through the doorway, followed by several LEGO missiles, and I held my hands up in defence.

"Hello?" I asked tentatively. "Uh, I, I'm, this is room 318, right?" My paranoid side kicked in, and I began contemplating what I would do if this happened to be the wrong room. Knowing me, I'd probably just end up walking away with red cheeks, hanging my head. To my relief, a masked head appeared from behind a shabby sofa and commanded,

"Yes. What is your wish?"

"Um, I'd like to see my room, please. If that's alright with you?"

The head ducked back down and then two people crawled out from behind the sofa, unmasking themselves. The first, the man who spoke, stuck his hand out towards me. He had dark brown hair and tanned skin, presumably from a nice beach holiday over the summer. His eyes smiled warmly as he grinned at me.

"Hi, I'm Tom and this is Chris." He pointed to the bigger guy behind him who was having a little difficulty getting out from behind the sofa. He waved and simply shoved the sofa out of the way, standing up to reveal his full height. He also had an impressive grin, as well as stubble gracing his jaw and a small tattoo on one arm. "You must be Dominic, right?" I bit my lip.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I am. But, uh, you can call me Dom. How did you know?"

"We were told that you'd be arriving today. Chris and I have been here since Monday and I've been desperate for some new company!" His cheeky remark resulted in a playful shoulder punch from Chris, the pair chuckling.

"Well, it's great to meet you guys. Do you know either of the other two yet?" They shook their heads.

"We haven't spoken to the other residents much, either. To be honest, most people have been arriving yesterday and today."

"We had the building completely to ourselves on Monday," Chris interjected, "so we took the liberty of making friends with the receptionist."

"Got a free hot chocolate!" I glanced back out of the window.

"Yeah, the weather looks nasty enough for hot chocolate. You wouldn't think it was September, would you?" I commented. The skies were grey, a strong wind shaking the trees that lined the street. Back in Manchester it had been fairly sunny, even in the early morning.

"It's been terrible all week. My Mum called me up to say how lovely the weather was back at home. 'S making me really jealous, to be quite honest. Exeter doesn't look anywhere near as pretty as it should when it's raining." I nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I guess you'll be wanting to see your room, right?"

"Yes, please." He led me through the flat, past the lounge, past the shared kitchen and into the main hallway where six doors were crammed into one tiny space of wall. He rapped on the third door and pushed it open.

"This is you," Tom told me, gesturing inside. I peered into the room, taking in the size of the bed, the wardrobe, the desk. It was fairly small, but I had a bit of floor space despite the furniture already in my room. Hopefully the wardrobe would be big enough to fit all of my clothes. I considered the possibility of buying some boxes to fit in the bottom but shook it out of my head immediately-that was definitely something Mum would suggest. "The bathroom's in the final door at the end. I'm next door to you on the left here and Chris is opposite. Have fun!" And with that, he skipped back into the lounge and left me alone.

I walked into the room and placed my rucksack on the bed, inhaling deeply. The room had that smell that suggested it hadn't been used in a long time, like an old hotel room that nobody ever bothered booking. The covers were plain white, the walls a soothing cream and the furniture made of pinewood. However, instead of the exciting feeling you should get when you get a new room, I only felt fear. It was almost as if the person behind hadn't left, despite the room being immaculate and clear of any possessions. I could still feel their presence with me, and it unnerved me greatly.

I decided that I just needed to make the room my own to shake this unease, so I hurried down to my car and lugged the suitcase upstairs. The noise of the wheels rattling up the stairs echoed around the halls and I saw another guy open his door to see what all of the racket was. After apologising, I attempted to carry the bag up the stairs, but it proved too heavy. Chris and Tom raised their eyebrows as I brought my bag in.

"That's just the first one, lads," I answered their unspoken question, and I could've sworn I saw Chris' jaw drop. I suppose they'd been expecting to live with guys like them, but unfortunately I was about to change that. After bringing my second suitcase and another stuffed beach bag upstairs, I went to park my car in a proper position so that it wouldn't get in the way. There was a small area for car parking at the end of the road, but it was nowhere near big enough to fit all the cars of new arrivals in. We were lucky in the sense that the campus wasn't even ten minutes away on foot, so I wouldn't be needing to use the car too much.

As I pulled into a space, I saw yet another flash of blue. I saw a dent forming between my eyebrows in the rear view mirror and worked to smooth it out before exiting my car.

"Hello?" I called, curious as to who the person was. At least, I presumed it was a person. Silence. Following the path I'd seen the blue blur take, I headed over to investigate the hedge lining the parking area. After standing silently for almost five minutes, I heard somebody whisper,

"Sonic here. Still new arrivals, nothing suspicious. Nobody suspects. Over."

"Excuse me?" The branches of the shrub shook and then steadied themselves. "I know you're there. What are you doing?" A head peeked out from the side of the hedge and then retreated again. "Is this some sort of game?"

The man pulled himself out from behind the hedge and stood in front of me.

"It's not a game!" he spat. "This is important business and you're interrupting me!"

I felt my eyes widen of their own accord. The man seething at me had a skinny, pale face topped with a shock of blue hair. Dark circles lay under equally blue eyes and thin lips curled up in a sneer. His body was so skinny it looked like he would snap in half with the slightest breeze, and one arm remained behind his back. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Dominic. Dominic Howard. I've just arrived here." He sniffed. "H-How did you get coloured hair?" I saw him twitch a little and suddenly felt rude. "Sorry, I just thought that hair dyes were banned. They were banned in 2017, weren't they?" His sneer turned into a slightly friendlier smirk as he shrugged at me.

"I'm not exactly a law-abiding citizen, _Dominic._" He drew out my name in the most peculiar way and I bit my lip to keep from retorting. "You can get everything somewhere. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to rush off. Because, as you said, coloured hair is illegal and I do believe the monitors will be patrolling this road in five minutes. Cheerio!" His change in temperament bewildered me, and I stood by and watched him disappear behind the hedge and out of sight once again.

"What a strange man," I mumbled to myself, trying to process everything that he'd said. Our conversation had lasted no longer than a minute, his speech so fast that it was difficult to keep up with, and I was already struggling to understand what he'd said. Monitor patrols? What were they all about? And who was he talking to behind that hedge?

I turned away, intending to head back to the flat, and caught sight of a security camera staring at me from the side of the nearest building. I peered at it cautiously, wondering whether it had captured the blue-haired stranger. A red light blinked at me from below the camera and I frowned, positive that the cameras back home hadn't been like this. Were they recording, or did it just signify that the camera was working? After all, we wouldn't want broken technology around here.

I jogged back to the flat and, as I reached the top floor, I chanced to look out of the window again. A stocky man in a leather jacket strode the street, an intimidating expression on his face. His head swivelled around on his neck automatically, scanning the street and poking his nose into people's windows. I watched him pass by and, as he turned to look at our building, he caught my eye. I nodded my head at him. He remained unresponsive, simply turning away as if he hadn't seen me.

Pulling myself away from the window, I noticed that I had goosebumps on my arms. I shoved my hands into my pockets and nudged the door to the flat open. Thankfully I wasn't pelted with foam objects this time round, although I did receive a few stares from Tom and Chris as I walked by.

"Something wrong, Dom?" Chris was frowning at me, little dents forming between his thick eyebrows.

"Not exactly," I mumbled. I didn't know Tom and Chris very well at this point, so I was unsure as to whether I could trust them. However, they'd been in the city longer than I had, so perhaps they could give me some information. "Just...do you guys know about the 'monitors'?"

"Monitors? What are you talking about?" I shook my head, turning to make myself a glass of water.

"I guess not then. I met this guy outside. He said something about monitors and patrols and stuff. He had blue hair-do you know him?" Both Tom and Chris shook their heads.

"Never heard of him, nor about these monitors. But if he had blue hair he was probably a nutcase. You know the rules, Dom."

That was true. Three years ago, the British government had enforced several new rules that had been getting people into masses of trouble. Petty things such as hair colour and the pattern you had on your shirt were now against the law, and we'd all been issued what looked like infringement cards. It was as if we were wandering around a huge school, getting told off by the teachers for not wearing our uniform correctly. Except, instead of just receiving a detention, three strikes on your card and you could end up arrested.

Of course, nobody agreed with them over these policies. It was our right as humans to wear what we wanted and have our hair the colour we wanted, right? The government made the excuse that it was offending people, which was incredibly see-through, but nobody else thought of an explanation to replace it, so it stuck. However, most people ignored the rules. They ignored them, and then they got into trouble, and then they continued to ignore them. The police had been struggling with ways to act on the rules and actually punish the offenders, and there'd been rumours flying around of new policies in place, one-strike arrests and isolation areas. Who knew what was right and wrong? Mum had always been convinced it was a huge lie woven by conspiracy theorists, but I wasn't so sure.

"I guess you're right. It just seemed really strange, is all." I waved goodbye and headed off to my own room, taking the glass of water with me. I flexed my fingers and decided to get to work.

It took me over an hour to sort out all my clothes and put them in the wardrobe, by which point it was full to bursting. I had to make sure everything was in colour order, but I couldn't decide whether I wanted to organise it by shade or size. In the end I went for size because it looked neater instead of prettier. It pained me to stuff my underwear and various ties at the bottom of the wardrobe, and I eventually added the mum-sy storage boxes to my mental shopping list.

Once I'd done that, I could get on with the fun bit. My room at home hadn't been huge, but it had been a fairly good size. I knew that my new bedroom would be pretty compact, so I hadn't brought too much in the way of decorating, but I realised that even the meagre decorations I'd brought probably wouldn't fit in here. I made my bed, replacing the plain white sheets with a dark blue striped pattern that still smelled like home. We weren't allowed to paint or wallpaper the walls, but I had plenty of posters to cover it with and, by the time I was done, there was barely a patch of white that wasn't covered. I also placed all my books that I'd brought with me on a bookshelf, ordering them by preference instead of alphabetical like I did at home- I decided that University meant I needed to follow a different pattern. New home, new me- and placed my textbooks in a box that my mother had helpfully decided to pack at the last minute.

The final addition was the fairly lights around the noticeboard. I considered not putting them up, wondering what my roommates would think about having something so girly in my room, but then my own words came back to me. I remembered standing on the doorstep, promising my Mum I would be okay, that I would be myself no matter what happened. So what if they thought my fairy lights were girly? I'd had them since before I could remember; there was no way I was taking them down for somebody else. Besides, making it obvious might be an easier way to reveal myself.

When I was finished, I plugged in my iPod into the speakers resting on my desk and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It wasn't particularly comfortable, and I could feel a spring digging into the middle of my back, but I'd had worse before. In fact, it wasn't all that bad, and with the radiator beside me, I curled up on my side and drifted towards the warmth.

I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Tom and Chris were knocking on my door and yelling for me to get up.

"Dom, Dom, our new roommate has arrived!" one of them called. I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes and yawning.

"I'll be out in just a second," I mumbled, although they probably didn't hear. A quick glance in the mirror showed me a horrific bedhead, which woke me up enough to swiftly rearrange the blonde strands falling in my eyes. I smoothed down my shirt and stepped out, noticing Tom peering into my room with wide eyes.

"Wow, mate, you really went all out," he noted. I shrugged.

"Want to make it feel like home," was my only explanation, following Chris to the lounge. Our new roomie was another big guy, slightly taller than Chris and with more bulky muscles. I felt a bit intimidated just looking at him, but a friendly smile graced his face as he held his hand out. I took it carefully, praying that he wouldn't accidentally yank my arm off with the force of his handshake. After all, I was only a small man myself.

"I'm Luke. It's nice to meet you," he introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Tom. This is Chris, and Dom." Tom gestured to the pair of us and we nodded, taking in Luke's massive form.

"Are you the leader then?" The room fell silent. Chris and I glanced at each other nervously.

"Sorry, the w-what? Leader? Uh...no, we don't have a leader. We just uh-"

"Tom's the most talkative out of the three of us," I interjected. "He's always got something to say, but there's not a hierarchy here." A wave of relief washed over Tom's face as Luke took us in.

"Ah, okay then," Luke muttered. "You haven't figured it out yet." He trained his dark green eyes on me, pushing a floppy bit of sandy hair away from his forehead. "There's always a leader in the end."

We paused, the three of us exchanging perplexed looks with each other. I briefly wondered why Tom and Chris hadn't given him the same greeting they gave me, but my thoughts were interrupted by Luke asking where his room was. Tom led him down the hallway and I plopped onto the sofa beside Chris.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"He seems alright, I guess. I'm not sure about him, though," he admitted.

"He does seem a little bit...forward." I got up, heading over to the counter. "Fancy a cuppa?"

"No, thanks. Actually, Tom and I were just going to go and get some dinner. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."

"Oh, that'd be great, actually." My stomach rumbled with agreement and I gave a nervous laugh. "I'll just get a coat. It's pretty nippy out there." I hurried back to my room, noticing that all the other doors were shut and wondering where Tom had gone. _He's probably just in the bathroom_, I told myself, pulling my charcoal button-up from my wardrobe and locking the door behind me again. Neither man was back when I reached Chris again, who was no leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

I patted my pockets, feeling the loose change through the material and hoping it was enough to buy some food. I'd decided to live in the self-catering part of the campus simply because I assumed it would be cheaper and I wanted to be more independent. I had the safety of knowing that my family would be there for me if I got into financial trouble, but I was determined to keep them out of it as much as possible.

Tom jogged up to us-plus crumpled jumper, minus Luke-and said, "Are we ready? Let's go!" a little too cheerfully to seem normal. I shared a sidelong glance with Chris before following him out of the door.


	2. Chapter 2

2

"So, how's Luke settling in?" Chris asked Tom as we went downstairs, the soles of our feet slapping on the vinyl floor.

"Alright, I suppose. I think the room was slightly smaller than he expected. I didn't think he would get here this early, did you?"

"Not at all. They said he'd be here tomorrow morning with Harrison."

"It's a little odd someone arriving here the day before, don't you think?" I added. "I can understand them getting here in the morning instead of the afternoon, because maybe the traffic wasn't as bad as they had predicted or they wanted to leave when the weather was good, but he wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow. Why would he leave a whole day early?" The pair trained their eyes on me and I knew they were wondering the same. What the hell was this Luke guy playing at?

Of course, there was also the possibility that he was completely innocent, but after meeting the blue-haired man earlier and witnessing one of the monitoring patrols, I wasn't going to take anything too lightly anymore. My tendency to indulge in melodrama meant that anyone and anything could be a threat.

There were plenty of places to eat nearby and we chose a local cafe, the smell of warm, fresh paninis too much to resist on a cold evening like this. We pushed open the door, a delicate bell tinkling above us, and observed the menu above the counter. The place looked family-run, decorated with paintings of flowers and farm animals, and chalkboard menus. A few locals were scattered around, pulling chairs over from the other tables to create a few obvious cliques; it reminded me yet again of high school. We headed for the counter, ordering our meals and waiting patiently for them to be freshly cooked. The woman at the counter had a strong West Country accent, and I didn't doubt that she spoke Cornish in her spare time either.

"You boys staying at the Uni, then?" she asked whilst we waited, her bright red curls bobbing about on her shoulders.

"Yeah, I just got here this morning," I replied, Chris and Tom busy peering curiously at some of the paintings.

"We don't get many of the students in here. We offer a deal and everything, but they just seem to avoid us." She shrugged, giving off a blasé appearance despite the stress I could hear creeping into her tone. "I guess they want to go to the chain places instead of a small cafe."

"It's a shame, really. It smelled delicious as we walked past, so it only seemed sensible to stop. I'm a bit of a supporter of exploring a place to get the best from it, myself, and getting to know the locals is the first step. If I'm going to be here for the next three years, I'm going to do my best to fit in." She smiled warmly at me, her eyes sparkling with that joy found so easily in the older generation.

"You seem like a nice young lad. It's very odd but, well-maybe it'll be different this year-but the students don't tend to associate with the rest of us. I'm sure it's the same in other cities as well, but sometimes I just wonder whether they're living in a different world."

I nodded as I listened to her, paying my full attention, having been taught about the ways the different genders tend to work. My Psychology teacher at school had given me loads of tips before I left for my final exams, what with me being her only student and all. Most of those in my classes considered it to be a soft subject, but I was sure they just didn't find it as interesting as something like Music Theory or the sciences. It was better for me, anyway, because I got free one-on-one teaching and all my mistakes could be corrected swiftly.

Just as I was working up the nerve to ask the woman, whose name I still did not know, whether she knew anything about the monitoring patrols, our food was placed on the counter. We took it gratefully, and I cracked my Panini open to see the cheese bubbling inside. Tom made a beeline for a round table in the corner by the window and my lips quirked as I watched Chris trying to sit on the dainty chairs. The tables were strewn with doilies and laminated menus advertising their cream tea specials, and I made a note to return one day that week to try a proper Devonshire scone.

We sat in silence for the first few minutes, allowing the warmth of the food to properly sink in. Chris had ordered a vegetable soup whereas Tom had opted for the same as me, and we were all too consumed with eating to bother with small talk. I'll say it straight-it was quite possibly the best Panini I'd ever had. After taking a sip of lemonade to soothe my burning tongue, I asked,

"So, do either of you know anything about this Harrison bloke?" They shook their heads, and silence fell over the table again. I couldn't eat comfortably in the quiet, feeling like everybody could hear the sound of my chewing, but I couldn't think of anything else to say, and neither piped up at all. We finished our meals, leaving the cash with a generous tip on the table and waving to the woman at the counter before braving the weather outside. It had started to drizzle during our meal, and the streetlights glinted off the rain lying in the middle of the street. The sky had grown dark, clouds blocking our view of the stars and streetlights flickering on as we passed by. I hunched my shoulders over, wrapping my coat further around me and hugging it to my torso. We hurried through the street back to our flat.

When we arrived back, my hair was flattened to the top of my head. The rain had gradually worsened over the journey and I was shivering as Chris fumbled with the key in the lock.

"D-dibs on the first s-shower," I whispered, stumbling over my words through my numb lips. If this was September, I definitely wasn't looking forward to mid-winter.

After a quick trip to my bedroom to grab a towel and toiletries, I nipped into the bathroom. There was just enough room to turn around in a full circle, the tiled walls occasionally stained with goodness knows what. I stripped and stepped into the shower, turning the heat right up until the mirror clouded over. I allowed the heat to warm my shivering muscles, simply letting the water run right over my body and fall to the floor. I inhaled the warm air deeply, my body naturally succumbing to the hypnotic feeling of relaxation.

I'm not sure how long I was stood there, but when Tom started banging on the door and yelling, "Hurry up, you wanker! You'll use all the hot water!" I decided it was time to start washing. I had a strict regime I'd stuck to for several years, and it went like this: shampoo, rinse, conditioner, body wash, rinse, dry, dry again, body scrub, dry hair, air-dry. Even if money, water and time were tight, I would still follow this routine to the minute; it might one day be the only thing I can control.

I stepped out of the shower feeling cosy and refreshed, my hair smelling strongly of apples, and was hit by a gust of freezing wind. Clinging to my towel, I quickly drew a smiley face in the condensation on the mirror with my finger and then padded to my room. Drawing the curtains shut, I released the towel from my grip and pulled some woollen pyjamas from the cupboard, assuming that we weren't going anywhere else for the night. Hanging the towel over the end of the bed to dry, I pulled one of my textbooks from its shelf and pulled back my bed covers, intending to get some last minute study done before courses began on Monday.

However, as I settled into bed, there was a loud crash from outside. I shot up, startled, and rushed to the window. When I peered out, I saw that one of the large bins had been knocked over in the street. Somebody sprawled across the floor beside them. I flung the window open and yelled out,

"Hey! Are you alright?" The body wriggled out from its place trapped underneath the bin and I saw that flash of blue again. "Hey, you! What are you doing?" The figure glanced up at me and shook his head, the blue drifting in the wind.

Without thinking, I pulled back from the window and raced out of the room. Chris called after me as I rushed past him, sprinting out of the door and downstairs towards the street. I heard shouts and laughter as I passed people's doorways but I ignored them, focussed only on reaching the road and confronting that strange man again. When I reached the pavement, however, all I saw was the bin, leaning proudly against the wall where it had come from. I ran down the road, searching for the man, but found nothing. I paused at the end, immediately regretting ever having come outside. The rain was soaking through my pyjamas to my skin and bones, the shivering settling in once again. He wasn't even here.

I shook my head as I traipsed back to the flat, wondering why I'd even moved. I never usually acted so spontaneously. And, to be honest, I wasn't even so sure why I desperately wanted to see him again; he hadn't been particularly friendly and forthcoming last time we'd crossed paths.

I blocked out the teasing jeers as I wandered back to the flat, hoping that most people would have forgotten about the incident by the next morning. I didn't know any of these people and already I'd made a bad first impression on them. I didn't want to give them anything they could tease me about but unfortunately my recent actions had probably been filmed for future giggles. It's amazing what a bunch of young adults can be amused by.

"Dom, what did you think you were playing at?" Chris demanded as I returned. "You've only just had your shower, it's freezing cold and you're only wearing pyjamas! What were you doing?" I shrugged.

"There was somebody out there. I-I was going to help them," I mumbled, ducking my head ashamedly.

"Honestly, you need to learn to just look after yourself. Go wrap up warm or you'll catch a cold."

"Thanks, Dad," I mumbled, feeling like a reprimanded child as I trudged back to my room.

I peeled off my soggy clothes and hung them over the radiator, wrapping myself in my towel and ruffling the water out of my hair. I put on another pair of pyjamas, hoping that my warm ones wouldn't smell horrible after they were dry, because I didn't have any plans to go to the launderette for the next week. Maybe I'd have to rearrange my schedule.

I gave up on the extra studying, instead choosing to join Chris in the lounge. He had arranged a laptop on the coffee table and was attempting to get the BBC iPlayer to work successfully. I made myself a cup of coffee and curled up on the sofa beside me, hugging my knees to my chest. He shook his head at me with a slight smile.

"You really are mad."

"I know," I allowed, peering at the laptop screen. "What are you watching?"

"I'm trying to get last night's Mock the Week to play, but it doesn't seem to like me much." Indeed, the laptop screen only appeared to be showing a collection of pixels and a buffering symbol.

"Is there a router or something we need to plug in?"

"Tried that, it should all be working fine. I guess the connection's just slow." I sighed, listening to the strange banging noises coming from the hallway and frowning. "You can hear that too, yeah? Is Tom alright in the shower?"

"I don't think it's coming from the bathroom. It sounds like Luke's room." My frown deepened and I tried to smooth it out with my fingers; all this frowning would only result in wrinkles when I got older. Chris got up, abandoning the laptop, and headed into the hallway. I slouched off of the sofa and began to tinker with the laptop, having worked my way around the website many times before. When the program began to play, I paused it and sat back, listening to the conversation in the hall.

"I was just asking if you were alright, I don't mean any harm or anything," Chris was saying defensively.

"Well, I'm fine. Everything's fine. Just leave me alone," Luke shot back, and the door slammed. Chris reappeared seconds later, his hands still held up.

"Jesus Christ. I hope he relaxes a little as he gets used to us. Can you imagine dealing with that when you're under exam stress? I don't th-oh! You got it to work. Thanks, Dom!" I gave him a cheery smile.

"No problem. You just had to make sure it was on the right setting for your laptop. It might not be of the best video quality but at least we can watch it now." We both relaxed into the sofa and I sipped at my coffee, watching as the comedians argued playfully on the screen. After a few minutes, Tom joined us, his wet hair dripping and forming a darkened, wet patch on the back of his shirt. I shivered just thinking about the feeling of soggy fabric pressed against his skin.

When I finally got to bed at eleven that night, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. We'd sat up together long after the program had finished, chatting about our previous schools, old girlfriends-although I managed to wiggle my way out of that one- and likewise, and had only gone to bed when Tom announced he was going out to try and get a job tomorrow and would need to be up early.

The next morning, I got up at seven and padded to the bathroom, having another shower and bathing in the knowledge that nobody else was up. I completed my usual routine, glad to wash the rain out of my hair, and then pulled on a button-down shirt, smart trousers and a knitted grey jumper to look presentable. I had decided that I would take a leaf out of Tom's book and also go job-searching, so I wanted to make the best first impression that I could and convince them that I wasn't really a maniac that ran around in the rain in his pyjamas. Because I'm not. Not really, anyway.

After arranging my hair neatly, I headed to the kitchen to make myself some cereal. After realising that all we had was some flavourless muesli, I made a note to go shopping and arrange our kitchen with the other three. Mum had suggested all buying our own things and just labelling them, but I was wondering whether we could just rotate cooking duties. Not just because I was desperate to show off my spaghetti bolognaise, but also so that I wouldn't have to cater for myself on a particularly busy day. I'd certainly be happy to return the favour if somebody relieved me of cooking duties for a day.

I sat down at the small table in the middle of the kitchen and began to eat, watching as Tom sleepily boiled himself a cup of tea and put a knife in the mug instead of a spoon. I bit back a laugh but it burst out when he turned around, his eyes comically wide and tea spilling over the edge of his mug.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, Dom!" he exclaimed.

"I could tell," I laughed. "How long did you stay up after I went to bed?"

"I didn't! I went straight to bed. I'm just not a morning person. Need lots of caffeine to get me going." I nodded, even though I couldn't say I'd ever been in the same position. Mornings has always been fine for me, thankfully, so my early eight o'clock courses weren't something to worry about.

Tom peered at me over the rim of his mug as I ate, his eyes narrowing.

"You're dressed very smartly today," he noted. "Looking to grab some ladies already?" I gave a nervous laugh, itching the back of my neck as I replied,

"No, actually, I decided I'd try and get a job as well."

"Oh really? Don't you go nicking all the good places!" We both chuckled. "Seriously, though, what sort of jobs do you think will be around here?"

"I don't know. I guess just working in the shops and stuff; there're loads of cafes so they might need helpers. Typical teenager jobs, I guess. I worked in a bookstore back home so I'll probably be looking for something similar. Oh, and I was thinking, what with discussing jobs and all, what will we do about eating arrangements?"

"What do you mean?"

"We have a box of teabags, a few spoonfuls of coffee, a packet of muesli, a tin of beans and half a pint of milk." I counted them off on my fingers. "Unless you plan on living on that, we'll need to go shopping, and I was just wondering whether we'll buy for ourselves or buy for the whole flat and split the cash or...?" I drifted off, letting him fill in the gap.

"Yeah, um, they both...they both sound good. I dunno. Ask Chris. It's too early in the morning for this discussion." He rubbed his eyes sleepily and took another slurp of his tea. I chuckled, putting my bowl in the sink.

"Good luck with your job-hunting," I grinned, Tom shooting me playful glares as I ruffled his bird's-nest hair.

"You too," he shot back as I nipped to my room and put a bag together. I stuffed my wallet, phone, iPod and a scarf into a canvas shopping bag and then headed out again, Tom still sat there with bleary eyes as I left the flat.

The morning was chilly and there was a slight breeze threading through the streets, but the rain had thankfully passed. I pulled the shopper higher on my shoulder and decided that I'd need to explore the city a bit before I knew where to go. I had considered applying in that cafe we went to last night, but I didn't want to intrude on their family business. Perhaps, if I couldn't find anywhere else to go, I would return there, but I wanted to seek out something more to my tastes before then.

From what you may know of me, you'd think I would choose a job in a clothes shop or something fairly sociable, but the only job I'd ever had was in a cosy little bookshop tucked in the corner of Manchester. I'd loved it so much there that I'd been a little teary when forced to leave, but they'd wished me all the best at Uni and offered to take me back if things didn't work out. Jokingly, of course.

As I walked, I observed the city. The air smelled of recently fallen rain, the scent making my nose itch. The breeze blew my hair out of place and pushed its way through my jumper, so I wrapped the stripy scarf tightly around my neck. It was quiet out, aside from the sounds of people walking around- almost eerily quiet. Not once had I heard a train come by, despite living right next to the station. I barely saw any cars around, even when it was raining.

The whole city seemed...well, dead was too strong. Not lifeless, but suppressed. It was almost as if these people had decided they didn't want to go out. They were free to if they wanted to, but nobody felt the need.

I also noticed the way the general public avoided those from the University. You could tell the students from the locals by the way they acted, the shops they visited. Some wore the official university jumpers, some in clothes completely unsuitable for the weather. They had accents ranging from all across the country, not at all like the West Country that you usually heard here in Devon or Cornwall. I'd been here on holiday a few times before, so I knew vaguely what it was like, and they even acted a different way to us Northerners. In fact, I noticed a lot of the locals avoiding the students like they were riddle with diseases. Surely they didn't resent us that much, right?

I scanned the main street when I arrived, committing some of the shop names to memory. The street was mostly cluttered with brand names, devoid of the family shops I'd noticed whilst poking around the little roads on the way here. None of them seemed the sort of place that I might like to work, although I nipped in a couple of times and browsed the stock, just to check whether it was worth coming back when I had a bit of money.

I spent at least two hours wandering around the city and writing down different shop names. Unfortunately, all I had was the local Waterstones, Starbucks and a small clothes shop that didn't look like it was visited often. I sat down on a nearby bench and glanced around, closing my eyes for a few seconds as I thought things through. When I reopened them, a dark poster caught my eye.

Surrounded by other fluorescent, bold statements, the greyscale poster stood out from the flash of colour. A picture of a dark club was accompanied by the text 'Local Band Night, Exeter Cavern Club, Saturday 12th September 2020' and a listing of the bands performing. I scanned the names, raising my eyebrows slightly at some of the obscure titles, and decided to check out this Cavern Club.

I followed the vague directions given on the poster back from town, almost all the way to our flat. It was fairly difficult to find, and I didn't realise at first that you had to go down an alleyway coming off the street before you could reach it. The door was set in the wall of a staircase and I pushed through into a little hallway, angular guitar music coming from within. The door swung shut behind me and I felt surrounded by the darkness until I pushed through to the main area.

It didn't look like your typical Beatles' tribute club, that was for sure. Lights swung from the low ceiling, reflecting off the linoleum floor. Somebody had obviously started to paint the brick walls a deep blue and then got bored half way through, so only two of the walls were coloured. One lone worker was pushing the tables to the side of the room, a few local teenagers smoking in the corner watching him warily. Somebody was setting up a small stage at the back of the room, hanging tarps against the wall to make it look ever so slightly less school performance night and more like a gig.

"Hey, you okay there, mate?" the worker asked me, leaning against a chair and running a hand through his thin, pale hair. "The show doesn't start 'til seven." I checked myself, wondering what my excuse would be.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm good, thanks. I was just checking out the place. I'm new here and I-"

"You're a Uni kid? We haven't had one of those in here for years. Great to meet ya!" He thrust his hand out and shook my own vigorously. "Welcome to the Cavern Club!"

"Uhh, thanks." I glanced around me. "How many people do you expect to fit in here tonight?" He shrugged.

"We usually get more than you'd expect. Tonight'll probably be a popular one, because you get to see at least twenty different bands for a tenner. For some of the more popular bands we've had over five hundred in here before. Was like a tin of sardines, but it was worth it." I nodded, trying to imagine what being in this little room with five hundred other sweaty companions would be like. I'd been to a handful of concerts before in my life, and the crowd was often one of the best parts about it.

"Who've you had?"

"Oh, loads of people. Of course, we don't get anyone huge coming here these days, unless they want to revisit the early years. We like to promote young bands, you see. Get people into them, and then they move on and do bigger things. Coldplay started here, you know." I raised my eyebrows. "We're looking for the next big thing tonight. Everybody wants to be able to say they saw someone before they got big. You get kudos for being a fan the longest or summin' like that."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Listen, uh," I wrung my hands, not sure how to phrase it, "do you need any help?" I asked. Immediately his friendly expression dropped.

"What sort of help?"

"Uh just, you know, little jobs, like you were doing just now. Helping out when you have lots of customers and stuff." I itched the side of my nose and bit my lip as I waited for his reply. After eyeing me closely, he finally nodded and said,

"Lemme go and get Matt." He raced off, disappearing through a door in the wall that I hadn't noticed and leaving me alone with the teenagers. They sneered at me and I shifted uncomfortably under their glares.

The man was gone for at least five minutes, by which time I was finished admiring the photos on the brick walls. Several bands and artists had performed here over the years, it seemed, but they didn't like to come back much.

Finally, he arrived back.

"Matt says he's not coming out," he explained apologetically, "but he does need the extra help. If you can come by and 'report for duty' tonight, he's gonna see how good you are. If you're any good, he'll hire you." I swallowed and smiled, thanking him. "Good luck, mate. I'll see you later."


	3. Chapter 3

3

I thanked him again and left the club, the bright light from outside piercing my eyes after they'd adjusted to the gloom. Instead of a wash of relief, however, all I felt was a bundle of nerves twisting in my stomach as I anticipated the evening that would follow. The fact that this 'Matt' had refrained from coming out to greet me was unnerving, and I hoped that he wasn't expecting ridiculously high standards. I was a fairly good worker, but I didn't like a picky boss.

I made my way back to the flat, passing by a few open doors as people conversed in the stairwells. There were a few sniggers-obviously most people still remembered my antics from the night before-but other than that, they let me pass by without incident. Tom had left the flat some time after I did, according to Chris, who had been sitting playing games on his laptop for the past couple of hours. Luke hadn't left his room once that morning, not even to use the bathroom, and I exchanged a suspicious glance with Chris when there was another crash from his bedroom.

"Is there something going on?" I asked carefully, hoping he would have some answers. Chris shrugged at me.

"He's been doing _something_ all morning," he said. "Always making noises here and there, but I have no idea what for." Choosing to ignore Luke, I sat down beside Chris and we organised our shopping plans, my growling stomach urging us along swiftly. As soon as we were done deciding, I headed out once again to find the nearest supermarket. As predicted, my car was completely blocked in, so I hoped that I wouldn't have too many bags to carry back home. I considered buying one of those long-life shoppers at first but decided to 'man up', as they say.

The day passed relatively slowly. I came back from shopping and ate dinner with Chris, and we had a laugh over leaving a sandwich outside Luke's door. I did actually do some preparatory studying like I'd promised myself I would, and then got properly dressed at least two hours before I was set to leave for the club. My stomach was too uneasy to manage a proper meal so I buttered a slice of bread and ate it slowly with a cup of tea.

"You alright, mate?" Chris asked as he passed me, having gone downstairs to arrange something. "You look a little worried."

"Yeah, I've got a sort of...job interview? I think?" I explained, albeit not very successfully. He raised his eyebrows.

"Jeez, you work fast." I gave a nervous, breathy chuckle. "Well, good luck then. What are you doing?"

"Working in some music club, I think. Promotes new bands and stuff, seemed cool."

"Might come down and check it out after dinner then. Come and give you moral support." He flashed me a grin as I washed up my plate and put it away, and I felt myself relax ever so slightly. I liked Chris a lot; he seemed friendly and quite on the protective side, but not obsessed with my business. He and Tom both seemed like nice lads, thinking about it, but it was just Luke I was worried about. I didn't see why he had any reason to be so sharp towards us.

I wrapped myself up in my coat and a checked scarf, and headed out for the club at about half past five. When I arrived, the worker I'd seen earlier was standing by the door with a little bucket. I could hear the rattle of coins from within and reminded him that I was, hopefully, here to earn.

"There's a door behind the counter," he informed me, gesturing to a door in the wall of the main room. "Matt'll be back there with the others; he'll tell you what to do." I thanked him and, as I was walking away, he called, "It's Morgan, by the way!" I felt my cheeks flush and ducked my head, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye-how rude of me not to ask his name! His eyes sparkled as he smirked at me.

"Dominic," I mumbled in return, nodding just to reassure myself that, yes, that was my name. I made my way to the door Morgan had told me about and knocked before entering. I found myself in a short hallway, the walls the same as the brick in the main room, blue paint peeling. There were two doors, one on either side of the hallway, and an open space at the end where I could see a worn sofa and several cardboard boxes piling up against a counter. A man and woman were leaning against the counter and talking. As I watched, the man moved forwards and gripped the girl's shoulders, staring into her eyes. He turned on his side to face her and I noticed that his body looked like somebody had thrown the plain yellow shirt he was wearing over a coat hanger. I spent a moment wondering what had possessed him to pair that shirt with a thick black hat.

The man embraced the woman and said a few last words before moving to turn away. He caught my eye and quirked an eyebrow, a curious expression forming on his face.

"And who are you?" he questioned, the smooth voice frighteningly familiar. I cleared my throat awkwardly and tried to shake off my nerves.

"Uh, Dominic. Dominic Howard. I'm here as a, uh, job practice? I was looking to see if I could help out around here."

"Oh yeah, Morgan said something about you earlier." His tone may have seemed self-assured, but his face betrayed his forgetfulness. I smiled slightly; I hadn't expected him to remember I was coming in.

"He said I was supposed to come and see you? To...get orders, presumably?" The man laughed slightly, sharing a sidelong glance with the girl. I looked over at her too and waved slightly. She was very pretty, with clear, caramel skin and big eyes framed by thick eyelashes. Her short dress showed off her long legs, although I'll admit it didn't do much for me. Perhaps Matt found more from that. She smiled at me and I felt my cheeks start to heat up as I realised she'd caught me staring. Hopefully she wouldn't be too bothered.

"Erm, yeah, something like that." His laugh was childish and high-pitched, and he itched the side of his nose self-consciously. "Sophie, can you go out and help on the bar please? I just need to brief...uh..."

"Dominic," I reminded him, my lips being tugged up in the corners by some unknown force.

"Right. I knew that. Dominic. Thanks, Sophie." She grinned at me, saying,

"He does that all the time. Don't take it personally; he's too wrapped up in his own little world to focus much on other people." The way she'd said it didn't make him sound self-absorbed in the slightest, but more imaginative and lost in the clouds.

I smirked and followed Matt when he waved me into one of the rooms. He nudged the door shut behind him and leaned against it, arms folded. His demeanour changed almost immediately. The friendly, forgetful man I'd been talking to outside disappeared, and in its place, a scornful attitude settled.

"You again? Really?" His voice was higher with disbelief, and I frowned at him.

"Pardon?" He tugged at his hat and I saw a lock of bright blue fall out. I felt my eyes widen of their own accord as things came together. "You're...you're that guy! S-sonic! You're the one that knocked over the bins last night and-the monitors! I've been asking everybody and nobody knows what you're talking about and-"

"Woah, slow down, mate." He held his hands up as if warning off a pet, despite his own words hurrying through at a breakneck pace. "I know it can all be a bit confusing, but you can't just ask everybody about it, okay? Not everybody knows about this sort of stuff."

"W-well, you didn't tell _me _that!" I exploded, outraged that he could say such a thing. He hadn't told me anything and yet he was expecting me to know things already? I didn't think so. I was full to the brim with questions. I had only just met this man, and already he was expecting me to know things and not know others. At least I had a name to put to the face, now.

"Well, obviously none of the students are going to know about the city's business, are they? They've only been here as long as you have. You know far too much already; you don't expect them to have found the government's papers, do you?" He took my silence as a chance to answer a few of my questions, something I was exceptionally grateful for. "Listen, Exeter's a strange place. Have you heard of the isolation areas?" I nodded slowly, remembering watching a documentary about it a few years ago. "Well..."

Suddenly he ducked his head, scratching his scalp through the hat and averting his eyes.

"Well..." I repeated, wondering why he suddenly stopped talking to me.

"I don't know whether I should tell you."

"What?" This time, the disbelief was colouring my own voice. He'd just led me down a trail tot eh answers and now he was going to stop me from seeing the prize? "I'm going to be living here for the next three years, so I think I have the right to know what's going on! It's not like it's a big secret, right?"

"Well, no, not really. I...fine. I guess I can tell you." He let out a heavy sigh and leant his head against the door behind him, exposing his pale throat. "This is one of them. The isolation areas, containment areas, whatever you want to talk them. It's experimental, and a lot of people don't know it exists until they try to leave-because you can't. You just can't leave this place without some higher power giving you permission. It's easier to get in, although you need the right credentials."

"How did I get in, then? How about all the other students arriving in time for Monday?"

"The University and its students are exempt from the policies." I detected bitterness in his tone, reinforced by his locked jaw. "You have to follow all the everyday rules, of course, but you're not part of our system. That's why none of you know about it, because you don't need to be told."

I paused, taking in this information. All the people of Exeter were trapped here. They couldn't get out and go on holiday or visit relatives, they couldn't have a change of scenery when they felt like it. I didn't really want to know what else the containment areas entailed, but I was sure Matt would tell me anyway. Eventually.

"Why don't you just...get the university students to bring you stuff? If you need to get something, or sort something outside of time, why don't you get us to do it?" He shook his head slowly, wringing his hands.

"We tried that once. Most of them refuse to do it, because they're too busy or some crap like that. The only ones that agreed to it didn't understand what we wanted, because we could only tell them so much. You've got to be so careful around here; even telling you this, now, I'm breaking the rules." I bit my lip, not wanting to get us into trouble.

Matt clapped his hands together.

"Anyway, you wanted a job, right?" he exclaimed. "We're all part of our little group here; we own this place and earn money as our pretence because mostly we're focussing on trying to muck up the government. They said that, if all goes to plan, the containment area will be official next year, no negotiation. No going in or getting out, more frequent patrols, the lot of it. So we're gonna try and mess stuff up and-well, enough about that. If you...pass tonight, you can join us, if you'd like."

"Wait, the group or just the job?" I felt my hands grow clammy at the thought of that responsibility on top of my studies.

"Whatever you want. Maybe we'll try that ferrying back and forth thing again, and you can try and sneak us out or something. You seem like the trustworthy type. Too paranoid to tell anybody about this, aren't you?"

His voice changed tone suddenly, slithering around the room as his icy blue eyes bore into my own. I swallowed audibly and nodded, and his laugh was grating, almost menacing. Maybe I was just getting nervous about the evening that was about to follow, but I was certain he'd changed his attitude just like that. Again. It was frightening how he could snap between two totally different people, and I wondered if he had any other tricks up his sleeve.

He tucked the fallen blue strands back under the thick hat, the light back in his eyes again, as if that had never happened

"We'll need you to do a couple of different things tonight," he said. "Morgan cleaned up most of the room earlier, and the stage is set up already, but you might need to do a bit of helping out with the bands, getting their gear on stage and stuff. I'll introduce them, but we might need a few check-ups. There was a soundcheck this afternoon, so the machinery should all be working, but you know how to work this stuff, don't you?" I nodded at him. I'd learned the drums for a few years back in high school and had even been a band for roughly three months before we disbanded over a petty argument. "So there's that, and you might need to help Sophie behind the bar, break up potential fights and stuff. We don't mind a bit of banter, because this place is supposed to be fun, a place for the misfits, you know? But we definitely don't want violence." I hoped my brain had taken it all in, and Matt pulled open the door again, ushering me out. "Have fun out there." He winked at me and then disappeared into the door opposite.

I left the hallway for the main room, walking around in a daze, and, as I opened the door, I was overwhelmed by noise. Music was pumping though the speakers hanging from the wall, bodies cramming themselves into the room. There was already a large queue for the bar and I could see Sophie flirting effortlessly with the men in an attempt to get them to buy more. I grinned, seeing Morgan's sandy hair across the other side of the room and weaving through the crowd to find him.

"Is there anything you need me to do?" I asked, a little breathless when I finally reached him.

"You could go and help Sophie out, if you want. The queue's pretty large over there." I nodded and wormed my way back the way I'd come. Much of the first hour was spent going back and forth at Morgan's beck and call, and I could clearly see that he was enjoying having control. I wondered if Matt was a ruthless leader.

A loud cough interrupted the quagmire of bodies dancing in the middle of the room, and five hundred heads all swivelled around at once to see Matt standing on stage, a sparkly cowboy hat resting on his head. I could hardly believe my eyes.

"Welcome to our band night," he greeted the visitors, rewarded with a cheer. "We've got some great acts coming up tonight, so I hope you enjoy the evening. A friendly reminder that the bar is open all night, but under eighteen's will not be served." There was a laugh at the groans resounding throughout the room. "The usual rules apply, violence will not be tolerated, the club closes at half past eleven etcetera." He turned to the side of the stage where I could see two nervous faces poking through a curtain. "I think our first band is ready. Please welcome, Bagpuss Shot Kennedy!" He leapt off the stage and disappeared into the crowd.

I watched as the young boys took the stage. They didn't look much older than seventeen, long hair framing their faces as they donned their instruments. The guitarist began what sounded to my ears like a Radiohead song, although I couldn't for the life of me remember which it was. They were good, for a teenage band, and the crowd seemed to think so too. The bass thundered throughout the room, hundreds of people jumping in unison until I felt like the walls would tumble down onto us. I made my way to the bar, which was empty for the first time that evening, and grinned at Sophie.

"They're great, aren't they?" she asked me. "I've seen them in here a couple of times. They're desperate to get gigs here because the only other place they can play is it school, and nobody really appreciates it there."

"It's very 90s," I mused. "We had nothing like that back at my school. I was in one of three bands, and we had all split up within the course of a year."

"Music is the only freedom we have here. It's a way of expressing yourself and nobody can condemn you for it. Yet." I shuddered at the thought of the government banning music, hoping that it would never come to such extremes.

The night didn't turn out as exhausting or worrying as I'd presumed it would be, and by nine o'clock I found myself loosening up enough to even join in some of the dancing. There was a small mosh pit going on in the middle of the room, but a signal from Morgan told me not to bother trying to stop it. I wouldn't dare go against those big guys, anyway. The bands each had a slot that would give them roughly three songs, and a variety of different genres were played, all the way from Slipknot to some country artist I'd never heard of. Matt and his mates obviously knew how to choose good bands; I hadn't heard a single bad song that night, and they all did it justice. The whole night just seemed like a lot of fun, a relief for those trapped here.

When everybody was kicked out at half past eleven, I was shattered. My legs ached and I knew I was covered in sweat, but I wasn't too bothered. I helped Sophie and Morgan pick up litter from the floor, pulled the banners down from the stage and folded them up, taking them backstage to Matt. The other door was open and he was bent over a folder, studying it intently. I knocked on the door and his head shot up, face like a rabbit in the headlights, blue hair flopping in his face.

"Oh, it's you," he mumbled, face relaxing as he took a few deep breaths. "Close one. Just bring those here." He snapped the folder shut and shoved it away out of my line of sight. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. As I left, I was sure I heard him murmur, "Have a nice night, Dominic," but I wasn't entirely sure. I waved goodbye to Sophie and Morgan and left for the flat.

The flat was dark when I got back, and I presumed they were all asleep. When I turned on the lounge lights, however, I nearly had a heart attack. Luke was sat on the sofa, staring straight ahead, with his arms wrapped around his knees. I peered at him carefully.

"Luke?" I asked softly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said curtly.

"Aren't you going to bed? It's quite late." I almost wanted to laugh at myself, having been able to hear music and laughing filtering through windows on my way back.

"I'm not tired. I have to wait." I pursed my lips, glancing around the room. There was a mobile phone resting on the coffee table, and understanding hit me.

"Right. Well, make sure you go to bed sometime soon or you'll feel bad in the morning." He simply grunted at me and I left him alone in the dark again, falling into bed fully clothed. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

It was only when I woke up late next morning, light streaming in through the gap in my curtains, that I realised Matt hadn't told me whether I got the job or not. I'd have to go down and see him later that day. I flung open the curtains, joy lighting my face as the sun streamed through. I peered down at the streets below, clear of puddles and miniature rivers of rain on the side of the road, and felt a grin spread itself across my face. I skipped out of my room to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.

"You're overly cheerful this morning," Tom noted through a mouthful of cereal.

"Have you seen the weather? We have to go and find a park or something! I'm not letting it go to waste," I told him, grabbing my own bowl from the cupboards and pouring myself a bowl of cornflakes as he scoffed at my attitude. "How did job hunting go yesterday?"

"Alright, I guess. There's nothing particularly exciting around here, but I found a shop that sells computer parts and figured I could use it as work experience when I go for a job after my course ends. How about you?"

"Pretty well. I found this music club, it's quite hidden away, but they have band nights and things. I need to go down there to see if I got the place but, to be fair, I think I did well last night."

"Oh yeah, Chris mentioned you'd gone to a club or something. Thought it didn't seem like your sort of thing so I guess this explains a lot." I nodded, spooning cereal in as fast as possible to shut up my rumbling stomach.

"Have you seen either of the other two this morning?" I asked, remembering that Chris had said he would pop down to the club but not having any recollection of him there. Tom shook his head.

"Not a sound. I haven't been up long, mind you, but Chris is usually a fairly early-riser. Seeing as it's about ten now, he should really be up if he's following any routine. And Luke? It's not much of a surprise, really."

"He was sat on the sofa when I came home last night, actually. Just sat there in the dark. Said he was waiting for something, a phone call, I think." Tom tilted is head to the side quizzically.

"He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to wait up for some chick to phone him." I shrugged.

"Exactly. I figured it must've been something pretty important for him to stay up waiting that late, but he refused to go to bed when I suggested it. He's really quite strange."

After I'd finished my breakfast, I nipped into the bathroom for as brief a shower as I could manage, glad to scrub the sweat and grime off my skin that was exposed last night. I'd noticed the stench of alcohol hanging in my hair when I got up in the morning but my stomach had won over. As I massaged shampoo into my hair, I wondered about what Matt had told me the night before. It all sounded true, there was no doubt about it, but I was curious as to how he'd stumbled across the information. In fact, I was curious about him in general, from the sharp planes of his face to whatever was going on in that absentminded brain of his.

I dressed in cooler clothes than what I'd been wearing the day before, hoping I wasn't being too optimistic about the weather. I tugged the sleeves of my thin jumper down my arms and curled my fingers around the edges, pushing the door open with my knuckles. Bidding farewell to Tom, I headed out of the flat. I felt like I hardly ever spent any time there, what with all this constant leaving.

I hurried into town to find the Cavern club, wondering what the atmosphere would be like at this time and presuming it would just be like when I'd chanced across it the day before. I poked my head in, the place deserted, and made my way to the door behind the counter. The sound of my footsteps reverberating throughout the giant room reminded me of my first day here in Exeter and I cringed, still not having an explanation for that. Matt hadn't told me about the monitoring patrols, either.

As I pushed open the door, I could hear conversation floating through the air. I almost considered turning back but knew I needed to ask him whether I'd got the job. I had every right to be here, right? My heart pounding, I moved further into the hallway. There was a group of people in the room Matt had briefed me in yesterday, and I could see him in the middle, bright blue hair standing out even among the range of coloured shirts displayed by his friends.

"Are you sure this is right?" I heard a female voice ask, possibly Sophie.

"Of course!" Matthew replied, as if the answer was obvious. "We've been waiting for this for nearly two years; it's time to strike now. If we don't take action, we won't get anything done."

"I just think that maybe this has all been a bit too rushed."

"They said they're going to make it official in 2021. That means we have less than four months to stop them, and there's so much more for us to do if we're actually going to be successful. Don't you understand?"

"Matt, mate," a deep, unfamiliar male voice cut in, "I get your point, but I think we need more preparation. If we fail this, we've blown the whole operation. They'll be onto us and, not only will we get punished, but the cause will have been for nothing. The one thing about not telling anyone what we're fighting for, or that we're even fighting in the first place, is that there's nobody to carry on our legacy if something would happen to us." Matt remained silent for a moment.

"Fine." His voice seem strained and tight. "We'll keep it off for another week. Happy now?" He didn't sound too happy about it himself. "The Resistance's next meeting will be this Wednesday, but keep your eyes peeled for signs." I heard footsteps shuffling and immediately scurried backwards, not wanting to be caught listening in on their conversation. I bumped into the door and scowled, the doorknob digging into my back. As I rubbed the sore spot, my elbow nudged the door further and it slammed shut. The noise made me jump out of my skin and I saw Matt poke his head around the corner.

"Dominic? What are you doing here?" he inquired. The surprise of his appearance and the fact that he remembered my name this time led to a very confused me.

"Uh, I, uh, was going to ask you about last night. You know. Are you busy?" I stammered and didn't miss the twitch of his thin lips.

"Right, just a second, Dominic." He drew out the vowels in such a strange way that I was left baffled long after he returned back to the room he'd been in. I watched as Sophie, Morgan and two men that I didn't know filed out the room, staring at me as they passed, and then Matt called me in. He was leaning against the wall again, tapping his foot on the floor in old trainers. I could see a pale, skinny knee poking through his threadbare jeans and his hair was spiked up so it looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electric socket.

"You were asking about last night?" he prompted, and I stopped observing him. The devilish grin on his face suggested that he'd noticed my staring, and I simply hoped he hadn't mistaken it for checking him out. Because I wasn't. Not really.

"Right, yes, I was just wondering if you were going to take me on permanently or something like that? Because that's what I came for. To get a job, that is." He nodded.

"How did you feel you did last night?" He fixed his cerulean eyes on me and I shifted under his gaze, not used to being scrutinised like this.

"I-I think I did alright, if I'm being honest." He hummed softly, and appeared to be enjoying the teasing, bossy role.

"Yes, Morgan seemed rather pleased with you." I relaxed my shoulders a little, the praise giving me a little confidence boost. "Well, I guess I'll have to get you to fill something out quickly. Wages aren't too much, but you weren't expecting millions, were you?" He didn't even give me to time to tell him that, no, I hadn't been expecting much money, before continuing, "If you can do maybe...hmm, would Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday evenings be okay for you? And Fridays, if we're busy?"

"That's great. My lectures are all in the morning so I can get here whenever." I peered over his shoulder as he pulled some papers out of his desk.

"Brilliant." He handed me a clipboard with a sheet of paper on it. "What are you studying?"

"Psychology. I'm hoping to do an Animal Behaviour module." I filled out the form, giving my name, birthday and new address without a qualm. Other boxes, however, seemed a little dubious. "'What's your favourite food?' Why do you need to know that?" He shrugged.

"In case we go out for a meal or something. It's on there for everyone, just to make sure I don't pack something weird for them. You know how people are." It seemed a strange excuse for an answer, and I'd be lying if I said I truly believed him.

I felt my brow furrow as I answered questions such as 'what colour is the sky?' and '2+2='. I understood that these were presumably to check whether we were human. A few years ago there had been an incident where an experimental robot had run riot around Birmingham and killed a small child, so we always had to be careful about whom-or what- we spoke to. Of course, most people forgot that you were supposed to check for a pulse when you shook somebody's hand.

"Are you not done yet?" Matt asked me impatiently, peering over at my sheet. "Jeez your handwriting is good. No wonder you're being so slow, always waiting to make sure it looks artistic and perfect. People like that annoy me, no offence." I bit my lip.

"How about me? Do I annoy you?" I asked him, peering up at him until our eyes met. He studied me for a moment, as if he were considering his answer.

"No, surprisingly. You seem different. I don't understand you." I laughed at the sheer absurdity of somebody not knowing who I was, when I often felt like the clearest person I knew.

"_You_ don't understand _me. _He says. You haven't told me anything. What's this Resistance then? And what was Sonic all about? Don't think I've forgotten. You might struggle to put a name to my face but I remember everything that goes on in this boring little city." His mouth fell open and I chuckled at him once again. "I'm not as stupid as you think, you know." He rested his head on his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at me.

"I didn't think you were stupid at all. Far from it, actually. I was wondering what you were going to use against me. Perhaps I should think twice about hiring you." I blanched. "Nah. We need somebody like you on the team." He patted me on the back, handing me a dark black badge with a simple white triangle in the middle. The point of the triangle was facing downwards, pointing towards the depths.

"It's supposed to symbolise overturning the system," Matt explained. "Turning the social structure upside down and all that, taking the power back." As I pinned it to my jumper, I glanced up at him and saw a smile flicker over his features.

"Welcome to The Resistance."


	4. Chapter 4

4

I offered to help out at the club for the rest of the day, since I had nothing better to do with my time. Matt set me about sweeping the floor of the main hall after the antics of last night. He sat in the corner with a mug of coffee, reading the same folder that I'd seen him poring over the night before. Every so often he'd look up and encourage me or ask me to bring him something from the offices at the back. By the time lunchtime rolled around, his table was holding an unused stapler, two empty coffee mugs, a torch and five coloured paperclips.

"Do you want to go and get lunch or something?" Matt asked me suddenly, tapping a pencil against his lower lip. "I'm really hungry."

"What do you want me to get?" I asked, and I saw dents form in his brow before he chuckled.

"No, no, I meant go...like, go out and get lunch. Together. Have food out. In a cafe or something."

"Oh!" Realisation kicked in, mortification its partner. I shrugged at him nonchalantly, leaning against the wall and resting the broom next to it. I'd already cleaned up once, but after dragging some boxes out the front door, I had to clean up the dust I'd created once again. At least he didn't want me scrubbing dirty footprints off the floor.

"Sure. What were you thinking?" Behind my back, I had my fingers crossed for cream teas, but I knew he wouldn't suggest that.

"I know this Italian place down the road that does really great pasta. We could go there?" He stood up from behind the table, brushing his trousers down and closing the folder.

"That suits me. You're an Italian fan, then?" He grinned at me, a crooked tooth showing through between dark lips.

"Definitely. I'd really love to go there one day, but..." He swung his arms around as if you could see the barriers trapping him here.

"I went to Spain once. It's probably not the same, but the weather was lovely." He chuckled.

"It's not really the weather I'm going for."

"Oh?"

"I just love Italy in general. The language, the food, the history and culture, the landscapes, the women..." he trailed off, staring into space, and I rolled my eyes. So it was that way.

_Bad luck, Dominic._

I resisted the urge to actually say, 'Shut up,' out loud, instead scolding my subconscious. Where had that even come from?

"Anyway, I'll just put this back and then we can get going, yeah?"

I tucked the broom in the corner of the room and waited patiently for him. When he returned, he was wearing a stripy beanie hat.

"Do you have a different hat for every occasion?" I teased as we left the club.

"It's very important that I keep my hair colour hidden, but people would look at me strangely if I was wearing my winter hat in this weather," he replied, his tone suggesting that I should've known that. Obviously.

"What's the point in having coloured hair if nobody ever gets to see it?"

"Feels like rebellion. I can wake up every morning and remind myself that I'm defying the system simply by the colour of my hair. It makes me feel like I've accomplished at least one small thing, you know? Maybe I'll show them when we invade." He cackled to himself and I snorted at him. "And it looks really damn cool."

"Has it always been blue?" He gave me a look and I sighed to myself. "You know what I mean. Have you dyed it any other colour before?"

"I went black in high school, but I'd never had anything bright like this before, no-well, unless you count the blonde I was for roughly five minutes. It's been this way for, hmmm, six months now, I think? I should probably change it soon."

I nodded, wondering how he'd managed to dye his hair so successfully by himself and not even got roots. Jealousy reared its ugly head and I swiftly squashed it back down.

"It's pretty cool, though. I remember people used to have all sorts of colours before they were banned. You saw them when people walked around town, sometimes, but mostly it was at music events. I went to a festival when I was fourteen and it was just insane."

"I love festivals. I wish I could go to a festival," Matt mumbled, and his tone was wistful.

"You'll get out of here. Somehow, you guys will manage it," I promised him.

"But the point is that I don't just want to get out of here. I want to stop this and _then_ get out of here. Help everyone break out so that I don't have to be on the run and I can enjoy myself."

"Ah, I see. You're the hero type."

"Not hero, exactly. Just smart enough to try and justify my actions, make sure I don't get caught for something that should be legal."

"Confident."

"Not confident," he disagreed, shaking his head.

"It's an exterior?"

"No, it's...I don't know what it is."

"Indecisive."

"Will you stop with that Psychology stuff?" He frowned at me, eyebrows casting shadows over his eyes. I smirked at him but let him off the hook, instead stuffing my pockets into my jeans. We walked in comfortable to silence to the Italian place.

I'll admit, I was pretty shocked when we arrived there. I'd never heard of an Italian takeaway before, but I certainly wasn't expecting a full-blown restaurant. I guessed it sort of made sense, but it definitely surprised me that this was the first place Matt thought of when going to lunch with a new employee.

Of course, it wasn't overtly posh or expensive. I could smell fresh pizza wafting through the air and took in a deep breath, closing my eyes and exhaling on a smile. I already had an idea of what I was going to order. We found a seat in the corner where we could see everybody else sat there. Matt obviously frequented this place, as nobody asked him to take his hat off, despite the slightly formal setting. He handed me a menu, recommending certain dishes to me from the top of his head. I wondered whether the 'favourite food' question on last night's form was simply for pretences and if he just took everybody here instead.

And then I found myself wondering whether he typically took new employees out for dinner, and the two sides of my head started arguing again. Yet another thing to be worried about.

In the end, I settled on a Funghi pizza with extra Mozzarella, and Matt ordered handmade ravioli in some sort of special sauce. Our drinks arrived while we were waiting for our food, and I rested my elbows on the table, cradling my chin in my hands. He was leant back in his chair, arms folded loosely over his chest, and I could feel his leg kicking the table where he was swinging it.

"So," I began. "'The Resistance', then."

"I wondered when you were going to ask," he answered me in the same smooth tone he'd originally greeted me with, as if he could turn his suaveness on and off with the flick of a switch.

"What do you guys do? What's this master plan you've got up your sleeve?" He took a deep breath, probably wondering how to proceed, and then leaned closer.

"You promise not to tell anybody about this, right? Nobody at all, not your roommates, not even your mother who doesn't live here but might come and give you a surprise visit one day." I felt my cheeks heat for a moment as I realised I'd forgotten all about my mother and hadn't even called her since that Friday morning.

"I promise, Matthew." He pulled his head back, giving me a curious look, and I wondered if my use of his full name had been a step too far. He hadn't even asked whether I had a nickname and had just assumed 'Dominic', and yet he'd never introduced himself fully. For all I knew, he didn't even have a surname.

However surprised or even disturbed he may have been, he didn't comment, instead saying, "Pinky swear?" and sticking his finger out. I gripped it with my own.

"I haven't done that since primary school."

"It's the ultimate form of promise. Can't break a pinky swear." I just shook my head at him in disbelief. Childish, as well. I was learning a lot about Matt today. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Anyway, The Resistance is our group, as I believe you're astute enough to have guessed. We're currently attempting to override the system. We've been testing everything, watching and waiting, silently observing so we know when best to strike. We don't want to do anything wrong, you see. That's why I knew when the monitoring patrols were and-"

"Wait, wait, can you just tell me what these patrols are, please? I haven't had an answer as of yet."

"It's all in the name, Dominic. The monitors, they're like the police but beefier and more dangerous. They're addicted to the law, they feed off it. The punishment fuels them, but people are getting too scared to do anything and they're getting bored. They walk around the town, following specific routes so that they don't miss a single spot in the entire town. They just walk and watch, and we watch them. Sometimes there are routine checks inside buildings to make sure there's nothing covert going on, but they've got their security cameras for that." I remembered the mysterious, blinking red light. "I know exactly when and where all of those are. I have no idea who these people are, but I've completed a map of where you can be at any point in time to stay safe. You can have a look at it when we get back to the club, it's got shading and all."

We were interrupted by the arrival of our meals, and Matt tucked in as soon as his plate was set in front of him. He put one piece of ravioli in his mouth and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as a lazy smile spread across his face. Encouraged by his obvious pleasure at the food, I cut a slice of my pizza and tried it. It was perfectly cooked, as you would expect from a place like this, with just the right cheese to mushroom ratio. I'd never tasted such a divine pizza in my life.

"Christ, that's good," I muttered in between mouthfuls, Matt opening one eye to watch me and nodding. "Jesus, now I know why you come here so often."

"Is it that obvious?" he questioned, sitting up straight in his seat again. I cocked my head to one side.

"You've been pretty easy to read today. The other times I've met you," which was all of two times-well done, Dominic, "you were pretty distant. I had no idea what you were thinking, but today it seems obvious. Almost too obvious, if that makes sense." I saw his lips twitch downwards slightly.

"Clever." At his comment, I paused, looking up at him and taking the time to properly observe his face. There were dark circles under his eyes again, possibly the same ones from Friday, and his shoulders seemed tense under his shirt. I wondered what he was stressed about, and if there was anything I could do to help him.

He snapped back, all of a sudden, returning to his animated self. "Anyway, we're going to infiltrate the government. We've been seeing how far we can push things recently, and I got a caution a few weeks ago, so I've been trying to stay off the radar a bit. I don't think they like you disturbing the peace by playing anti-government songs in the middle of the town." My eyes widened, mouth falling open on a shocked laugh.

"You played anti-government songs?"

"Yeah, you know. We do it all the time, but it was slightly too obvious this once and we timed it just right to see a monitor running around the corner. You should've seen his face. It looked like he'd had a bad reaction to his dinner or something, his face was all swollen up." He started to giggle at the memory, creases forming around his eyes.

"What happened?"

"Eh, nothing much. Forced us to leave, made us promise not to do anymore busking, even though we weren't collecting money for it. Gave me a slap on the wrist and sent us off again. No doubt I've got a red ring around my name in the records now, but it was worth it. Attracted a few spectators, spread the message a little bit."

I shook my head with disbelief.

"You're mad," I breathed. "Brilliant, but mad."

"Why, thank you! I think I'll have to put that on my business card." He made a move as if tipping a hat, only to remember that is beanie didn't have a brim.

"So...do you have a plan? Are you going to act soon or wait for a bit?"

"You heard us earlier. Do you really think that they're going to let me?" He brought his eyes up to mine, scrutinising me, and I realised I'd been caught. I'd need to be much more careful around him if he was ever going to let me stay with the group. His natural volatility could make things incredibly dangerous for me, and I wasn't willing to cross him. He didn't doubt that he could hurt me if he wanted to.

"I just figured that you'd probably have an idea laid out for when you actually act. Blueprints or an evil scheme or something?" He pondered for a moment, tapping one slim finger against his chin, before unashamedly stating,

"Nope. I have no idea what we're going to do. We're stuffed." He laughed bitterly, almost as if he was trying too hard to fake it, and I remained silent. He must've sensed my discomfort. "Listen, Dominic. I'll figure something out, alright? We'll get through this safely, all of us will. Somehow we're going to overthrow this government. You can count on it."

"I just don't want you getting hurt," I admitted softly, my cheeks colouring. I felt like he could see right through me and scowled at myself. His lips parted slightly as he observed me closely, and I squirmed under his gaze.

"You're a very strange man, Dominic," he murmured. "I've never met anybody quite like you." I looked down at my plate, content with finishing off my pizza instead of meeting his icy eyes. I was too afraid to look into them for too long, just in case he froze me to the spot.

We finished our meals in silence and left some cash on the table. The chair scratched against the floor when I tucked it in like fingernails on a chalkboard and I winced as everybody turned towards us, the cosy atmosphere ruined. We stepped outside, the breeze ruffling my hair, and I envied Matthew his hat.

He turned to me, all of a sudden, his eyes lit with excitement.

"You should come back with me," he suggested. "There's something I want to show you." With that, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and dragged me down the street. I stumbled after him, feet catching on the cobblestones, baffled by his next change in demeanour. I was considering the possibility that he had some disorder, quite possibly bi-polar.

We turned off the street earlier than expected, Matt leading me through some winding alleyways until we appeared on my street.

"Hey, I thought you said we were going back to yours?" I asked, frowning at him.

"I did. I live just opposite you."

I followed his gaze to the homely houses that lined the opposite side of the road, facing the student houses, my eyebrows raised delicately.

Well.

Matt fished for his keys in his pocket, twisting them in the door of one of the houses and pushing the door open. It wasn't what I'd been expecting-far from it, in fact. The walls were painted in block colours, a splash of crimson in the living room, pale cream lining the hallways, mellow purple coating the walls of the kitchen. I could smell toast lingering in the air and there were a few jackets slung over the banister.

Matt nudged me up the stairs to the main landing where I poked my nose into a few of the rooms.

"I share the house with Morgan and Paul," Matt explained. "It makes things a lot easier for us to organise stuff, but we have to be careful. If they find one of us, they find all three of us. The others could easily be condemned for hanging out with me, being a dangerous citizen and all, and I know Morgan's been losing sleep over it."

Matt kicked his door open and strode in ahead of me, flicking on a CD player before rummaging through a door. Soft piano music floated around the room, reverberating off the stripy walls. The room was immaculately clean; except for a few things lingering here and there, everything seemed to be organised and in its proper place. It almost seemed as if he didn't really live here, and I wondered if he spent most of his time at the club. The bed didn't even look slept in.

I walked slowly around the room, listening to the sound of the floorboards creaking underneath my feet. Matthew was sat on his bed, simply watching me, an unopened folder in his lap. His laptop was gathering dust on a chest of drawers, a few pots containing pencils, paper clips and marbles dotted around the top surface. His bookshelf held several names that I didn't know, sci-fi illustrations gracing the cover of each book. An acoustic guitar was leaning in the corner, a few pieces of paper with words scribbled on stuffed into the case that lay abandoned next to it.

"I thought you played electric," I muttered, brushing my hands over the smoother surface of the wood. He shook his head, pulling the hat off and running a hand through his vivid hair.

"I borrowed it from Paul. I enjoy playing it but can't afford to get my own one, and he never uses it anyway. It's pretty much shared," he said, pointing to Paul's room.

"Who's Paul?"

"Schoolmate of mine. He was there this morning. Big guy, dark hair. He's really great. A hard-worker but he likes to have fun." I nodded, understanding.

"He sounds like Chris. My roommate, that is. One of them."

"Do you like your roommates?" I shrugged.

"Tom and Chris seem really nice. Luke's a little...to himself."

"That's not always bad. He'll probably come around eventually."

"Yeah, I hope so." I considered telling him about finding Luke in the dark the night before, but kept my lips sealed. "So, you wanted to show me something?" He started, almost as if he'd forgotten about his intentions entirely, and I allowed myself to laugh at him for a brief moment. He snapped open the folder in his lap and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to me. I sat on the bed beside him, smoothing the paper out on my lap and biting my lip.

It showed a hand-drawn map of Exeter, only showing the places that Matt deemed to be important: his house, Sophie's house, the club, the park, the University, the main town, the police station and-lo and behold!- the Italian place. A colour code had been sketched in the top right-hand corner and I referred back to it as I tried to follow the map. He had drawn little lines down each road relating to the time of day it was free to walk down there. It all looked very complex until he reached out and dragged his finger along the page, illustrating what he meant.

"Obviously it doesn't show if you can be there at, say, seven minutes past five, but I made it on a half-hourly basis so that it can be as accurate as possible. They're always on time, those monitors. It's quite scary how automated they act, but I'm fairly sure they're all human." His tone, however, was dubious.

"Could I have a copy of this? I could photocopy it tomorrow, when I'm at the University."

"It's fairly important that you have a copy, yes, but it's too risky doing it at the University. Somebody might see, and we definitely don't want that happening. I'll just make you another copy. I can probably get it to you for your session on Wednesday. I mean, it'll be done before then, but that's when I see you next."

"I could just come and get it when you're done, if you want? You could ring me when you're done?"

"Bad idea. I think they monitor the phone lines, so they'll figure something out. The only phone we've got is the household one for emergencies. I've been working on creating a code that doesn't sound too suspicious, but it only works with select phrases. How about I just bring it to you?"

"That's fine by me. Pop over whenever you want, I'm sure somebody'll be in. We're in flat 318." He wrote the number down on his palm, mouthing the numbers to himself.

"I'll get it to you soon," he promised.

"It's fine, take as long as you need. I'll probably be busy with studying tomorrow anyway, what with it being the first day and all. Kind of looking forward to finally meeting some more students, actually. Don't know anybody on my course yet."

He opened the folder again, spreading pieces of paper across the bed. I picked up a few pieces, scanning through his notes and observations of the people of the town. His messy handwriting was difficult to decipher, but he had some good points written down once I'd worked my way around it.

"This is some really interesting stuff here," I told him. "You got a conclusion for this yet?" He waved his hand a little bit.

"I'm working on it. I've got a few things, but it isn't coming, you know? I'm struggling to get anymore."

"Well, if you need any help with it, feel free to let me know. We're doing behavioural symptoms this term so I'll probably find something in my research that could benefit you." His eyes darted up to meet mine and I could see the smile resting in them.

"I knew it was a good idea recruiting you." He returned to his work, rummaging through the folder until he produced the file that he wanted. "Here- a list of governmental activities over the past three years. Just in case you needed any more convincing."

The piece was typed up for once, and I wondered about the source of this information. It seemed brief so that everything could be crammed onto the page, and Matt had highlighted certain sections he found particularly intriguing, circling one paragraph so thoroughly that the pen went straight through the paper. Mysterious public disappearances; cancelling cultural events; the invisible borders that didn't work on the students but functioned perfectly for those bound to the city.

"Do you know how the borders work? Like, is it definitely something physical? Magnetic, maybe?"

"We think it might just have something to do with names on the system. I'm definitely working on it, don't you worry, but I just can't get any leads at the moment. I've tried everything. They haven't injected us with codes, we didn't sign any contracts or sell our souls to the devil or whatever. The only thing I can think is that we get scanned as we reach the border and, if we match our names on the register, we're prevented from leaving. But I'm still not sure how."

"I've never seen anything quite like it. It's sort of fascinating, in a way," I mused, pursing my lips.

"It's not fascinating," Matt spat, his voice sharp through the quiet room. The CD had finished in the background. "Not when it's happening to you. This isn't a book or a movie anymore, this is real life! I've researched everything I possibly could, spent hours checking out every sci-fi book in the library but found nothing useful. There's nothing I can do." His voice broke and I gasped at the sheer misery I could hear leaking into his voice, the one thing that didn't seem forced the whole day we were together.

"Matt, I'm su-"

"There's nothing, nothing at all. We're going to fail. Oh, _God, _we're going to fail. Dominic," he looked up suddenly, staring into my eyes, capturing my hands, "help me."

"Matt, what are you talki-"

"You know what I'm talking about. You're the answer, I'm sure of it." He moved closer to me, until our chests were almost touching when I inhaled sharply. I looked down at his face, cheekbones casting shadows across his perfectly pale skin, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet dry lips, and felt myself shaking beneath his gaze. "You have to help me."


	5. Chapter 5

I left Matt's house a little while later feeling quite out of sorts. His sudden drop of pretences had shocked me, but as I thought it through, it began to seem more and more suspicious. When I got back to the flat, I laid down on my bed and tried to put the pieces together. Matthew appeared to be a flawless liar, that much was obvious. How much of what he had told me was true? He had enough proof about the government on those sheets he'd shown me, and it wasn't false information I was worried about.

No, not at all. I was just terrified for Matt himself. His behaviour baffled me; although it was natural to keep secrets from someone, it wasn't natural to pretend you had other secrets. There were several possibilities running through my mind:

Everything he had told me was a lie. He didn't need my help at all and they were planning on striking soon, but he didn't trust me enough to give me details.

He was telling me half-truths but still left some information undisclosed, possibly to test whether I could pick up on it myself

He'd been telling the truth the whole time just to put me off his scent and seem less suspicious

Either way, I was fairly sure I wouldn't ever have any idea what was going through his mind.

The day seemed boring in comparison to my morning. I couldn't concentrate on any work, although I found myself watching out of the window to see if the monitors came past like the map had said. Sure enough, another monitor wandered by at roughly half past seven. I made a mental note to check the time he-or it- appeared the following day, knowing that it was roughly around lunchtime but not sure just how early.

Chris and Tom noticed my distraction as we had dinner but chose not to comment. Just as we were finishing up, Luke burst out of his room. The three of us turned to look at him, and he shot us a smile.

"Is there any dinner left?" he asked us in a polite tone. Tom gestured to the bowl of macaroni cheese on the side and told Luke to help himself. He filled his plate and sat next to me at the dinner table. I had been hoping to excuse myself quickly, but I was too intrigued by his change in attitude to leave.

"So, uh," Chris began, clearing his throat, "what have you been up to these past couple of days?"

"I was setting up a shelf, actually. I had this stand-alone shelf at home so I was trying to put it together." I raised my eyebrows slightly, watching his face and trying to detect whether he was lying. He showed all the signs of a person telling the truth, but it could've been a decoy.

"Wow, that's pretty...uh..."

"Cool?" Tom finished. "Was it difficult, then? Since you took so long to finish it?"

"Oh, yes, I kept getting distracted by this great book I'm reading. Have you heard of it?" And then Luke and Tom began a discussion over why neither of them liked the main character. Chris and I gaped at each other, mouths hanging open with shock. Why was Luke acting like this all of a sudden?

"I'm going back to my room," I muttered, shaking my head as if I could shake the confusion out of my ears.

"You feeling alright, Dom?" Chris wondered. "You seem a little quiet tonight."

"Yeah, had a confusing day down at the club. I just need a rest, I think." I left the room before he could reply.

For some strange reason, I had this longing to be around Matt again. He was such a complex, vibrant creature that everybody else seemed grey in comparison. My dreams that night were plagued with flashes of electric blue hair, rose-petal lips twitching as sinfully long fingers wrapped themselves around my wrists again, holding on so tight that I couldn't leave even if I'd wanted to.

_This obsession is getting out of hand._

I never made a conscious decision to start liking Matthew, it just...happened. And I knew I was only going to get into trouble with it. The strange dreams, the wishing I was constantly with him. Even though I would only ever act towards him platonically-unless something changed-it was still a difficult situation to be in. I didn't want to seem clingy and annoying, but at the same time I just couldn't keep myself away from the mysterious man. He confused me beyond belief and I just wanted to find out more and more and more.

Of course, all thoughts of him were knocked out of my head when the next day arrived. I was up early, and had washed and eaten by half past seven so I wouldn't be a second late for my first lecture. Calling a goodbye to the other guys, to which I only got a few grumbles in reply, I left the flat and started heading towards the University campus. The morning air was chilly, and I tugged my coat tighter around my torso. There was nobody around, probably because it was so early in the morning, but I couldn't see anybody else heading to lectures either. I began to get a little paranoid that perhaps I'd gotten the wrong day and wrung my hands together nervously.

The campus looked incredibly modern, all glass buildings and large open spaces for students to study on in peace. It looked exactly like my sort of place, what I'd been looking for when applying to Exeter. I headed over to our building and pushed open the double doors, relieved to hear the sound of chatter emanating from within. Students mingled in the foyer, talking to each other and meeting the others on their course. I signed in at the desk and sat down on a nearby bench, scanning the crowd for somebody to talk to. The minutes ticked by as we waited to be invited in to our first lecture, but when it reached eight o'clock, the hall's doors still hadn't opened.

"Perhaps we'll be having a practical today," somebody suggested.

"No way," came a response from across the room. "This is definitely going to be an integration session. We probably won't get anything done this session, no matter what we're supposed to be doing." And that was how, before the lecture had even begun, we managed to split the hard workers from those that didn't care.

A young girl sat down next to me and introduced herself as Lucinda. We chatted for a couple of minutes about what we were looking forward to on the course and what we thought of the city so far. She seemed to have ventured out a little further than I had but didn't notice anything too out of the ordinary. I figured that she'd only really visited the typical student haunts.

When the clock reached quarter past and our professor still hadn't arrived, I started to get a bit nervous. Wiping my palms on my jeans, I went to ask the receptionist if she knew what had happened to Dr. Kahn. She apologised and promised me that she would call him, but went straight back to her computer as soon as I'd gone away, her long nails clacking on the keyboard. I tapped my foot impatiently on the floor as we waited, tension settling in over most of us. We were eager for our first session, raring to go with education as, God help us all, adults; our professor couldn't ditch us on the first day, could he?

The doors suddenly flew open and a young man in a pristine lab coat came running in.

"Sorry I'm late, boys and girls!" he greeted us enthusiastically, clutching a clipboard to his chest and sticking a hand out. Nobody took it. "I'm Dr Williams. Dr Kahn unfortunately can't be with you right at the moment, so I'm taking over his first session for you. Don't worry," he added, seeing some of the shocked faces, "I'm perfectly qualified."

He didn't even look young enough to me to have gone through enough training to be a university lecturer, but we followed him into the hall anyway. I took my seat a few rows back from the front, the seats thankfully padded but the backs hard against my spine. I pulled my notepad out of my bag, pushing past the front page and writing the date in the top corner, savouring the feeling of the ink running onto the first page and thinking of all the fantastic information that would fill the pages of this book when I'd used it all up.

The session went just as predicted. A PowerPoint presentation introduced us to the course and the modules, giving us slightly more detail on the choices we would have than what I'd been able to gather from various website searches and leaflet collections over the few months since my application. Some of the students were missing from the lecture, but Dr Williams assured us that this was fairly normal and to be expected. We had to stand and introduce ourselves, which was always nerve-wracking but usually went well for me. I decided to be very straight forward with my 'unusual fact'.

"Hi, I'm Dominic," I stated as I stood up, brushing my shirt down, "and on Friday night I ran outside in the rain in my pyjamas to chase an imaginary man down the street." Titters and murmured recognition could be heard around the room but the lecturer seemed pleased with my answer.

After the two hours had passed, the lecture cut short due to his lateness, we poured out of the building onto one of the grassy areas. The rest of the students crowded around, some groups of friends gathering already. It was raining again and the ground was too damp to lie down and study, so opted for heading back home.

When I unlocked the front door and returned to the lounge, however, I paused in the doorway. Chris and Tom were sat on the sofa in their pyjamas, each with a bowl of cereal, intently focussed on the man sat between. Matt had wiggled himself into the gap, sporting a giant, rainbow jester's hat. He was lost in discussion and his hands were making wild gestures as he attempted to explain it to Tom and Chris.

"Matt?" I asked, disbelief colouring my tone. "What are you doing here?" He pulled a piece of paper from his jeans, which were so tight I was surprised they could fit anything in the pockets at all, and waved it towards me. I averted my eyes and began to admire the dust caught up in our carpet.

"I've finished it," he told me and I took it from him, peeking at it and trying to avoid Chris' curious stare.

"Already? I didn't think it would be done for, well, a while." He shrugged and looked for all the world like he was just lounging at home, leaning back into our sofa.

"I couldn't really sleep last night so I figured I would be productive, and then it made me tired enough to sleep. So then it works well for both of us."

"Matt was just telling us about the music groups they had at the club the other day," Tom explained, Chris finally realising I was home and waving at me from his seat. "It sounds like a really great place." I nodded.

"It was fun," I mumbled, finally bringing myself over the threshold of the flat and making myself a glass of orange juice.

"How was your lecture?"

"Odd. Our professor couldn't make it so we had to have a substitute. And there were quite a few kids missing, which I thought was strange, with it being the first lecture of our entire course and all. I wouldn't want to miss the briefing." Chris and Tom simply raised their eyebrows but Matt was biting his lip, looking at me curiously.

"Did he say why he was missing?" Matt inquired. I shook my head as a reply. "That's really strange."

"He could just be ill," Tom suggested, as if there wasn't another explanation. A smirk flickered on his lips. "People get ill all the time. Maybe he got caught in the recent wet weather, running around in the rain in his pyjamas."

"Wow, hilarious," I muttered, Chris stifling a laugh. "Matt, are you staying?"

"Nah, I've got business to attend to. I'll see you some other time, Dominic?" He leapt up from the sofa and made his way over to the door, turning back to me as he traced the handle with his fingers.

"Sure. I'll be at work on Wednesday as per usual." I leant against the counter, sipping my juice.

"See you, then." He winked at me and then left, the door slamming shut behind him. I remained staring at the door for a few minutes after he left, until Tom nudged me out of my delirious state.

"Dom, are you...alright?" he wondered, fixing me with a steady look. "You were acting really strangely around Matt. Aren't you guys, like, friends?" I smiled weakly.

"I guess it's just employee-boss tension, you know. What are you supposed to do when you see them outside of the workplace that won't affect their view of you and fall badly on your job? You guys talking about the pyjamas incident probably didn't help much," I lied, knowing Matthew would have found it entertaining. I felt as though, whilst he was the most unpredictable person I knew, I could always figure out what would happen next. Whatever couldn't possibly happen-that's what would happen.

"Right. Whatever you say, then," Chris replied, and although his face didn't betray anything, I once again got the feeling that he could see right through me.

"But he was wearing a rainbow hat!" Tom protested quietly. Desperate to change the topic, I turned back to something that had been bothering me as soon as I remembered.

"Do you guys know what happened to Harrison?" I asked. "Wasn't he supposed to arrive on Saturday morning?" A thick silence settled among us.

"And now it's Monday," Tom said slowly, a dent forming between his thick eyebrows. "That's really, really strange. Most people are supposed to be here by this morning anyway, but he's two days late."

"What if it's got something to do with Luke being early?" The two stared at me, uncomfortable silence wedging its way between us.

"No way," Chris interrupted, "it can't possibly have. Luke says he doesn't know Harrison. We were chatting this morning after you left, and he really is a nice guy. He just had to get used to us, I think. We're going for a drink tomorrow. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."

"I might take you up on that offer, actually. I still find it a little strange that he was early and Harrison is...exceptionally late. And all the students missing from today's lectures, were they all late too? Is there something going on in the rest of the country?"

"Well, you know the best way to find out the answer to that," Tom began, booting up the laptop on the coffee table and opening a browser tab, "is to look it up." He opened the BBC iPlayer and found a news program. The three of us sat back to watch it, sipping at our drinks as we listened to the reporter. There was the usual news of fights in other countries; the war in the Middle East that they'd promised would be over in 2014 but had only gotten worse since; rising oil prices as we neared the end of our finite resources; the run-up to the next presidential election in America. But nothing that could possibly be stopping students reaching their university courses.

"There you go, Dom. Does that solve your problem?" I shook my head.

"It only makes things seem more suspicious." I suddenly remembered the paper that I was turning over and over in my hands. "I'm going back to my room." As I left the lounge, I could hear them whispering about me, thinking I was out of earshot, but I didn't bother listening to what they were saying. I'd had bad experience with gossip in the past, and knew better than to get involved and come out hurt.

With my door securely locked so that somebody couldn't sneak in, and the curtains closed just in case any cameras could peer in through my window, I unfolded the paper. It looked almost exactly the same as Matt's own map, except a little bit scruffier. The colours sprawled across the page, the use of different mediums making me smile. When Matt had run out of coloured pencils, he'd simply turned to chalk and oil pastels, as if he'd unearthed a child's art set from the loft.

He'd also personalised my map a little bit. According to him, I didn't need Sophie's house on there (which was probably true) but he'd given me our flat, his house, the University, the club and one of the clothes shops in town. I rolled my eyes, wondering how the hell he knew I'd even been into the town over the weekend. I flipped the paper over, smoothing out the creases, and was shocked to see that he'd scribbled a little message on the back:

_Dominic,_

_TR, Wednesday, Cavern Club, 12.30pm _

_Lunch after?_

_Good Luck, Matthew x_

I felt my heart leap into my throat and clutched the piece of paper to my chest, nibbling at my bottom lip. Was he inviting me to their private Resistance meeting? I fumbled for the badge that I'd left lying on my desk and pinned it to my jumper, patting the triangle affectionately. Surely this meant proper group integration, right? Would his other friends approve of me being there? What would they say about Matt continuously breaking the rules and using a student?

I got up and paced the room, feeling too restless to remain lying down, and thought things through. Behind the main concerns with the note, my inner teenager was jumping up and down with glee. Could I consider this a date? Why had he used his full name? And was the kiss really necessary?

Which was, of course, followed by the usual, 'Does he do this for everyone?'

I left the room much happier than I'd entered it, having tucked the map in my wallet and shoved it into my pocket. Passing by Tom and Chris and throwing them a smile, catching only a glimpse of surprised faces, I left and started jogging to the library. When the University had had new buildings put in, they'd replaced the library, and you could tell as soon as you walked through the doors. Warm air rushed to meet me and I considered taking off my jacket before realising I'd have nowhere to put it. A kind-looking librarian was sat at the desk reading a book, and the walls were covered in posters. There was a notice board with student advertisements surrounded by offers of new books, extra lectures and authors' chats.

I made a beeline for the non-fiction area, the walls painted a slightly different shade of cream on this side of the room than the fiction room. There was a collection of computers in the corner where some students were already beginning essays with stacks of books piling high next to them. I shook my head with a small smile, exceptionally pleased that I hadn't been given any work to do just yet.

After scanning the 'map' on the wall, I found myself in the city's history section. I'd had this brilliant idea whilst viewing the map Matt had given me and wondered why I hadn't thought of it before. Sure, Matt had probably already looked it up, but it was good to be independent for once instead of asking him for answers and only ending up with more questions. I scanned the shelves, looking for just what I wanted. There were books explaining how the city had come to be, what the culture was like during the wars and more, but I found a distinct lack of books from recent years. In fact, most of the logging seemed to end at roughly 2014. There had been nothing new since, which surprised me; the city had changed so much in the past few years, so why hadn't they bothered to note it down? Surely it was worth mentioning to any curious visitor, right?

With the suspicion in the back of my mind, I headed over to the desk at the front. The woman looked up over the rim her book and pushed her glasses a little further up her nose.

"How can I help you, love?" she asked me, and I had a distinct memory of the woman in the Panini cafe. She seemed so much nicer than our local librarian back at home, who would shoot lasers out of her eyes if you so much as scuffed the carpet by accident.

"Hi, I was wondering whether you have a book on the recent history of this place," I replied. "All I can find is about the early years, but I really need something from the past decade or so. I don't suppose you could help me, could you?" I gave her my most charming, dazzling smile and watched as her cheeks grew pink, taking note of her reaction.

"Well, let me come and have a look." She wandered out from behind the desk and led me over to the section I'd been browsing just a moment ago. "This didn't have what you wanted, no?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Well, I think there might be _something _I can do. It's often in the wrong section, you see. I never know where to put something that's a mixture between the two." She shuffled over to the very corner of the room, a place that hadn't been marked on the poster and gestured to the books there. A small sign read 'Government Affairs-Reference Only' and she bent down to peer at the shelves. "Here, this might be what you wanted." She heaved a large, leather-bound notebook off the shelf and handed it to me, slowly standing up again and listening to the sound of her back clicking. I bit my lip, wondering if I could help the poor old dear in some way. "Is that it?"

I leafed through the first few pages of the book, peering at the immaculate cursive that graced every page and thanked her, knowing this was what I needed. I gave her one last smile before she returned to the desk to help another student, and then made my way to the study area. I pulled a piece of paper and a pen from a drawer, opening the book to its most recent pages. Newspaper clippings were stapled into some of the pages, with rings around the most important section. It reminded me, in a way, of Matthew's folder, but minus the speculations and with more facts. I could smell the age of the book and couldn't resist looking back at the earliest dates. The first entry read:

'_Received a new sign from the British government, it is being put_ _up as I write to you. The people had a lovely celebration this morning, and Mrs Burley of Thornton Hill made those wonderful cupcakes of hers. We were given this book as a town gift and my friend George had the bright idea to record down the affairs of the town._

_Current population: 7950 _

_Date: 17__th__ June 1879'_

I passed through several different sections of the book, each filled with their own different handwriting and different affairs of the city. Each mayor had their own distinctive way of writing, and some of them even included humour- I know, I was shocked too. The records changed drastically over the course of the years, as the town grew into the city it now was and certain things were deemed to be unimportant.

In the recent eras, however, everything was printed and stuck in instead of handwritten. I tried to see past the paper to the lines underneath, just in case something had been covered up and kept out of our way, but couldn't find anything. I read through the last five pages of the notebook, taking notes on student disappearances and several occasions where the public had been acting up and the government had had to take action.

It was astounding how much trouble the government had had to deal with, and I wondered if that was why they'd picked this place to be one of the trial systems. It seemed that Exeter was growing unsteady and rebels were beginning to convene. The public were listening to them instead of their real leaders, the government, and it was causing problems for the city life. Gangs had formed, the rebels versus the 'prudes', as quote in this newspaper clipping. The city was divided between the two groups, and the government were sat right in the middle of the conflict that was no doubt about to sink upon them.

For a brief moment, I almost felt sorry for them. If they'd had this much trouble, they would've had to do something about it. However, I was reminded of the situation Matthew and his friends were stuck in and decided that the government had taken the wrong action plan, just like so many before them. My mind travelled back to Russia 1917, and I wondered whether I was part of the new Revolution or an innocent bystander.

_Either way, this wasn't exactly what I'd had planned when I said I wanted to do something with my life_, I thought to myself.

As I turned the last page of the book, however, I came to a halt. In the middle of the page, a large piece of paper had been stuck. The corners matched those of the book exactly, as if it had been made to fit, and was stuck down so well that it wasn't even peeling after all this time. My main concern, however, was in the text in the middle of the page, which simply read, in block print, 'Recollection of Affairs terminated'.

There was nothing new since 2017, the year they'd brought in the isolation systems.


	6. Chapter 6

6

I paused, thinking to myself for a moment as I stared out of the window at the green sprawling out behind the library. It all looked so calm out there, serene and peaceful, like a typical cheap-summer-holiday-with-your-parents destination. Despite appearances, I'd felt that the place was slightly off when I'd arrived, but most of the students seemed to be going about their daily lives as if there was nothing wrong at all. Why did nobody else feel it?

To think that, where I was sat, four years back this would have been free land. The two groups would've been fighting over their rights to the city, but there wouldn't have been any doubt about who was allowed on and off grounds. And now the people of Exeter had nowhere to go and no way of knowing what was going on with their families. They were trapped here, and the government most certainly didn't care.

Why had they stopped recording affairs? The only thing I could think of was that they didn't want it to be public. I was unsure of the origin of this book, as presumably it hadn't been free for public access whilst the mayors were still writing in it. This meant it would've been acquired sometime in the last three or so years. Hadn't the person that received it questioned the reasoning behind it?

Of course, I reminded myself, we're humans. We're not constantly of the belief that somebody is working behind our backs because were more comfortable trusting others around us. It makes things easier on us, and we like to take the lazy way out. Paranoia is far too much effort. I had a suspicion that most of the people I knew wouldn't care if somebody was wrong-doing, as long as it didn't disrupt their life directly.

I placed the book back on the shelf and drummed my fingers on the side of the mahogany desk, shaking my head and pondering what I would do then. Should I go and tell Matt of my findings? I'd only just seen him, so it would probably be a little strange to go and find him once again. Maybe I could keep it to myself for a while.

I left the library, thanking the flustered librarian for her help once again, and was surprised to find that dusk was settling over the city. How long had I been reading? I hadn't even noticed the time passing, so engrossed I was in the history of the city. As I walked back to our flat, I glanced around and wondered about the life stories of the people in the houses. How many of them were students travelling here, completely unaware of the situation they had walked into? And how many of them would've chosen somewhere different to study if they'd known about it?

I swallowed the guilt I couldn't help rising, hoping that they would appreciate me giving them the information at the meeting on Wednesday instead of immediately. It wasn't like lives were being lost between now and then, so it couldn't be that important, right? In fact, I was hoping to finally have something figured out so that I could at least give a good impression at my first meeting.

And who knew? Maybe being in Matt's good books would get me somewhere.

When I twisted my key in the door of the flat, I could immediately tell something was up. There was nobody in the lounge for once, and as I shrugged my coat off my shoulders, I called out. There was a muffled greeting and I bit my lip, asking again,

"Anyone home?" Making my way to my room, I noticed that there was light coming from underneath Tom's door. The rest of the flat was completely deserted so, after slinging my coat into my room, I knocked on his door softly. There was a long pause before he opened it, and I'd just considered going to make myself some dinner when he pulled it open. His hair was mussed up and his eyes were watery, and the glint in his eyes wasn't the friendly sparkle I had grown so used to already.

"Sorry, mate, I didn't realise you were sleeping," I apologised, backing away from the door.

"I wasn't. Come in," he answered, moving away so that I could get into his room. He had a blanket wrapped around himself but it didn't quite cover him completely, and he was wearing normal clothes underneath. I peered around his room, noticing that he didn't have many things to put up like I did, and I wondered about what his home life was like. Did he have siblings? What was his relationship with his parents like? To be honest, I couldn't even remember what course he was taking, and I hung my head in shame.

"You okay, Tom?" I sat down on the edge of the bed, glancing over to where he was curled up in the corner.

"Just stressed, I think." I felt my eyebrows rise ever so slightly and worked to keep my face neutral. If he was stressed now, what would he be like during the final weeks of the year? "Don't suppose you've seen Chris or Luke, have you?"

"Unfortunately not-I thought that you would have done. Did they go out, then?" He nodded at me solemnly.

"They left a little while after you did and said they'd be back home soon, but then Chris called me and said they were staying out for a little while longer."

"Maybe they went to get some dinner. It is pretty late, after all," I told him with a shrug.

"I guess so," he mumbled.

"Or maybe they got lost. I went exploring on Saturday, and it is quite a big place."

"Maybe."

"Or maybe-"

"Dom, just stop making excuses," he blurted. "Chris has gone with Luke to do 'friend stuff' and now I'm alone."

I paused and sighed, looking over at his position in the corner. I considered teasing him about being jealous, but his morose expression told me that perhaps that wasn't the best plan of action. He looked really down in the dumps about the whole thing; I wondered how close he and Chris actually were. It usually took me a lot longer to become this attached to somebody, although I wasn't one to talk at this particular moment in time.

"Tom," I began again, speaking slowly and gradually moving slightly closer to him in the hopes of providing some comfort, "I'm sure it's not like that. They probably went to talk about something; maybe Chris was asking him why he was so aloof these past few days?"

"They were all smiley and happy when they went out. And when Chris called me I could hear laughing in the background." His cheeks were heated, as if he felt guilty for being this possessive.

"Tom," I put my hand on his shoulder, like I'd seen the 'bros' do back at high school, "it really isn't something you should be worrying about, okay?" He didn't reply, instead focussing on the wall opposite. "Listen, how about we go out and...I don't know, watch a movie or something? Or just hang out together? I'm not doing anything tonight. " At this, he perked up slightly, turning towards me with a curious expression.

"That new spy film is in cinemas at the moment, I bet we could go and see that. If you wanted to, that is," he said excitedly, the blanket falling from his shoulders. I beamed at him. My research could wait another day.

"Sure, that sounds great. Dinner first though, right? We don't want the other people watching it getting annoyed by my stomach." I left him to himself, heading to the kitchen and ignoring the lack of laughter.

As I was making dinner for the pair of us, I wondered how deep his and Chris' relationship really was. It seemed so strange for somebody to get so worked up over someone having other friends, especially since Tom hadn't really struck me as the over-sensitive type before now. He'd definitely looked on the verge of tears just now, though, and it was in my nature to try and comfort him, but I was lost in this situation. I'd been called upon many a time to comfort girls in my class when they'd lost their boyfriends, and I'd been looking after my mother ever since Dad's accident, but I was suddenly stumped.

I was lost in thought when Tom padded into the kitchen, looking slightly more presentable minus the fluffy slippers on his feet. I handed him a steaming plate of Shepherd's pie and instructed him to dig in, and he followed my orders gladly. The pie was so hot that it scalded my tongue at first, and I took a large swig of water to cool myself down. I was pretty proud of my first proper cooked meal, and a thumbs-up from Tom told me that he was too. Feeling pretty good about myself, I asked Tom about the spy movie and he launched into a fifteen-minute explanation about what had happened in the prequel.

He was still telling me about the sub-plot when we left the flat, wrapped up warmly in coats and hats, and made our way into the centre of town to watch the film. The film wasn't quite my cup of tea, as it was a bit too gory for my liking, but I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat by the time the film ended. Besides, it was nice to have a night out with a friend. Sure, we saw each other all the time now that we were living together, and there was no doubt that we'd end up sick of each other at some point within the next year or so, but I found myself enjoying our general conversation.

We walked back to the flat leisurely, Tom quizzing me on my opinions of the film and clearing up a few blind spots for me. The main character had been on the search for a chemical to save the world and all that usual drama, and according to Tom, this chemical did actually exist. They just hadn't quite figured it out yet.

"They say it will give us endless energy, this chemical, and that we wouldn't have to worry about energy expenditure anymore," he told me, wild hand gestures conveying his enthusiasm a little bit too well. "And then we could solve all our carbon emissions problems and all the nuclear fuel difficulties and basically save the world." I nodded, but I struggled to believe him.

"It just sounds like a big conspiracy theory to me," I admitted. "How can so much energy be trapped in a little capsule?"

"It's not a capsule, it's an element. It's one they haven't found yet because it's mixed up with so much other stuff, but when they do find it, they can fix the world and everything will be better for us. Imagine the future of a world with unlimited energy!" He gazed off into the distanced, the wind ruffling his hair as he mulled over the thought, and I allowed myself a quiet laugh.

It was impossible of course, but it did have me thinking. I remembered learning about energy in science back at school, and what it had to do with heat and melting ice caps. Something about thermodynamics, information that had got lost among theories of forces and motion, the life cycle of the star and other science-related stuff that I wasn't too interested in. Only focussed on passing my exams and getting into university, I didn't pay much attention to anything other than retaining the facts. However, with all this free time on my hands and an urgent need to find something useful to impress Matthew, my interest was suddenly rekindled.

When we arrived back home, we could immediately hear laughter coming from the flat. I opened the door to see Chris, Luke and a few unfamiliar people convened in our lounge. Two girls turned to the door and giggled as they saw the pair of us bundled up in hats and coats, and Luke chuckled along with them. I felt Tom freeze behind me.

"You guys alright in here?" I asked, my eyebrows drawing together as I slowly closed the door behind us. Chris nodded.

"We were just getting to know some of the other students," he told us, smiling at one of the girls as she twirled her hair at him. I bit back my distaste at her less-than-subtle flirting and pressed my lips together. "You could join us, guys."

"Actually, I'm probably going to head to bed," Tom replied curtly, pushing past me. "Have a nice evening." Chris looked over at me, his eyes wary as they stared at me and I shrugged.

"I think I'm going to follow suit, actually. It's been a long day," I lied, heading to my room. "Don't get too drunk." I heard titters and whispers behind me, as if they were surprised I had noticed the collection of bottles on the coffee table. Not that I cared whether they got drunk, but I didn't really want to be looking after a sick Chris at 3am. Luke could take care of himself.

I changed into my pyjamas and wrapped my dressing gown tightly around myself, sitting at my desk and booting up my laptop. I tapped out a beat absentmindedly as I waited for my page to load up, as the university's internet not the speediest on the planet. My browser window finally appeared, and after a brief check of my emails, I found my bookmarked search engine. Thinking for a moment, I carefully typed out 'isolation systems' and pressed 'enter'.

As expected, my screen was suddenly flooded with paranoid conspiracy theorists claiming that the government were going behind our backs but not really giving any real evidence. The few pages I opened were closed almost immediately, and I couldn't seem to find anything new and interesting anywhere, even after half an hour of searching. I backtracked and entered in the same thing again, having got lost in the web of related searches, and scrolled down a few pages to find the 'different' side of things.

A few adverts were intermingled among the websites and blogs, but the thing I found that really caught my eye was a Wikipedia page on isolated systems. It wasn't what I'd been looking for, but as I opened the page, I was immediately reminded of my inner discussion not half an hour ago on the way back from the cinema. I read through the page, highlighting important information and opening other tabs until I found exactly what I wanted:

'According to the second law, the entropy of any isolated system, such as the entire universe, never decreases.'

After a little searching around, I could almost feel the pieces clicking into place, the fog of confusion fading away to harsh clarity. Butterflies flapped around in my stomach as I processed the information and I began to scribble down as much as I possibly could to take it to Matt. Surely, _surely, _he hadn't already looked at this, right?

A definition for 'entropy' stated that it represented the unavailability of energy in a system, which was how it was related to thermodynamics. As long as the system was kept isolated, the entropy could only increase, and therefore it would constantly be losing more and more energy. My hopes were beginning to fall again as I realised I'd only stumbled on some physics jargon. However, with further research, another definition for entropy emerged. In everyday language, entropy was 'the gradual decline into disorder.'

I sat back and folded my arms, gaping at the screen and peering at my notes beside it. A diagram had been drawn scruffily, along with many annotations. If entropy was representing disorder, and if in isolated systems entropy could increase, then we were both losing energy and emerging into disorder. Without the energy to actually carry out a revolution, a feeling of discontent would simply settle across the city with no ability to do anything about it. Like a bag of microwavable popcorn ready to burst out of the packaging when it has been in for too long, but with dire consequences.

"It could kill us," I whispered to myself, my own speech hanging in the silent room. I blocked out the laughter coming from the lounge, instead focussing on my own discoveries. Did the government realise what they were doing? Either we would lose energy and gradually fade out, or we were going against everything that entropy represented and would explode, a doomed animal raging against death in its final moments.

Was this what they were planning? Were they containing the people here until they eventually grew tired and forgot about the causes they had fought for? It was, essentially, a passive form of mind control. Without the energy to take action, the thoughts could drive a person mad, and then the government would only have to deal with a struggling human being. They would be secluded, written off as insane and not taken seriously, even if they were the only ones who knew the truth. They were killing off those that had answers.

With these thoughts spinning in my head, I wrote down a few final notes and turned off my laptop, my brain too exhausted for any further research. It was fairly early for me, only about 9pm, but it'd been a long day and my body was aching for sleep. The bed welcomed me, and I curled up into a ball of warmth and dropped out almost immediately.

When I woke up the following morning, my head was a little clearer. I showered and went to make myself some breakfast before my lecture, where I found Chris asleep on the sofa. His mouth was wide open, his eyes were shut peacefully, and his limbs were dangling off the edge of the sofa. I allowed myself a short laugh at his expense before fetching a glass of water and some paracetamol from the bathroom, placing it on the coffee table among the collection of empty bottles that remained. Thankfully, he was the only person there and I didn't have to deal with any strays.

I ate my breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing over at the sleeping Chris but mostly just daydreaming. I would wait until the meeting the next day to tell Matt, and then they'd figure out what to do. After all, all I was predicting were future events, not providing an explanation for our situation. That could work: I would provide them with information and they would create the genius plans.

The day began the same way as the previous, and I sensed a routine forming. I made my way down to the lecture hall where, thankfully, our professor was on time, although Dr Kahn was still missing and Dr Williams seemed just as incompetent as he had the previous day. Many of the students that were absent were still missing also and therefore deemed to be ill, and we began our first course with a slightly muted bang.

Dr Williams pulled up another one of his PowerPoints, this time decorated with pictures of the brain, and introduced us to the Cognitive Development module. I noted down his words for future reference, taking down useful websites and textbooks that I might need to order and also any information that he was giving us in preparation for the essay he wanted at the end of the module. I was prepared to get started right away, hoping to get a head start so I wouldn't have to cram so much in at the end of term. That way I could have fifteen credits under my belt and would be ready for the following modules.

After telling us about our first practical in the laboratory on Thursday morning, we were dismissed and hurried out of the building. The wind whipped right through me, chilling me to the bone, and I wished I'd thought to bring my hat, suddenly jealous of Matt and his abundance of headwear. I wrapped my coat around my torso and half-ran back to the flat, diving into the warmth without a second thought. However, I wanted to just walk back out as soon as I'd stepped foot into the lounge.

"You're not listening! I-Dom! Come here a second, Dom, I need your help," Tom called.

"Oh, I don't know, Tom, I don't think I'll, erm, I won't be of much use," I stammered, making excuses to get out of what I knew was an argument brewing. Tension was tangible in the air.

"No, no, you were there last night. You tell Chris." My eyes flicked to the sight of the bigger man standing in the corner of the room with his arms folded, his eyes bleary with sleep and the small amount of hair on his head in disarray. He shrugged at me and I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Tell him what?"

"Tell him about last night."

"Tell him _what_ about last night? There's nothing to say." Unless Tom wanted me embarrassing him but informing Chris of the messy state I'd found him in, I didn't know what I was supposed to say. Make him jealous that we had a night out?

"Nothing to say? Nothing to say, my arse! You went without me! You went out with Luke and you didn't even think to invite me or ask me or say anything, you just left me here!"

"Jeez, Tom, I can have other friends, you know," Chris replied, holding his hands up defensively. "Stop acting like such a woman."

"I'm not acting like a woman!"

"You _are_! Only girls would get so worked up over something like this. You're acting like we're dating or something."

"There's no way in hell we'd ever be dating!" Tom screeched, outraged, and I bit down sharply on my tongue to stop myself from laughing. My head whipped back and forth between the two and I considered lounging on the sofa and watching the bitch fight from a more comfortable angle. "I was just lonely and you didn't care, bastard!" Chris fell silent at that. "You could've at least told me, asked if I was alright when you called back to say you were staying out longer or something like that. I thought you were just abandoning me for somebody else."

"Tom, I...I'm really sorry," Chris answered, deflating as all the anger left him. "I didn't realise that you felt like that."

"Well, I did. And I still do. I'm really lucky Dom was there to cheer me up." I took a step back, shaking my head as Chris began to thank me.

"I'm probably going to let you two get on with it," I said, edging out of the room towards my own room. "Don't start making out on me or something."

"We're not gay!" they yelled at me, a foam counter hitting my back as I sprinted towards my room, doubled over with laughter. "We're not, are we, Chris?"

"No, definitely not. Never."

Could've fooled me.

I shut my door behind me, waiting for the last of the laughter to leave my lungs with a big smile gracing my face, before flopping onto my bed and re-reading through my notes from last night. Do _I go to Matt now, or do I wait until tomorrow?_ It was only twenty-four hours until The Resistance's meeting; surely nothing much could happen in that short space of time, right?

I spent the rest of the day lazing around. I typed up the notes I'd made in the lecture, trying to organise them into folders, and then reorganise them again when I wasn't happy with the layout. I called my mother, who was annoyed that I'd spent a few days without contacting her, sent a few emails to my friends back in Manchester, ate my lunch, had a foam gun fight with Chris and Tom and tidied up the clutter that had already gathered on my desk, but it still felt weird not seeing Matt for a whole day. Somehow I'd managed to run into him every day since arriving here, but this was the only time I hadn't seen him.

How long had I been here? Was it only five days? I already felt like I'd been living here for a lifetime.

Chris and Tom were oblivious to my restlessness, instead enjoying the time we were spending together. Luke was absent from the group but I didn't ask for his whereabouts, not wanting to start another argument between Chris and Tom. They seemed just as close as they had the day that I'd arrived, but I knew that thing were getting rocky already. Who knew what would happen by the end of the year? Maybe they'd be married by then.

We went out for dinner that evening, and Luke came back from a lecture and joined us. Revisiting that friendly cafe we'd explored on my first day here, we went in and ordered proper meals. I leaned against the counter and chatted to the server as my soup was being made, and she asked about my courses. I took this opportunity to ask her if she'd noticed anything else funny about the town or the people, and she paused, looking me in the eye. She seemed like she wanted to say something but suddenly thought better of it, instead answering me with,

"I'm not really sure, boy. It's maybe a little quiet for a city, but there's nothing too out of the ordinary." I nodded, changing the subject and seeing the relief apparent on her face. Obviously she wasn't allowed to talk about it. That made sense, but it was also annoying that I wouldn't be able to get any information from the locals. Maybe I could use some tests for my courses as a pretence for my curiosity.

My soup was perfect, with just the right amount of tomato to give it flavour and a creamy texture that left me wanting more, despite filling me up completely. We opted for desserts this time, too, and my scone with jam was exactly as I'd hoped upon arriving here. Tom, Luke and I shared our thoughts on the lectures we'd had so far, with only Chris having not been to the main buildings yet. Tom was taking a course on English Literature, and Chris' technological course hadn't yet begun. He was nervous for his first session in the labs the following day, and Tom and I reassured him that everything would be fine. It was fairly easy to make friends with people if they had similar interests to you.

We left the cafe and returned to the flat to watch a film, the four of us squashed together on the tiny sofa in the lounge sharing a bowl of popcorn that we'd bought on a whim. The only movie we could get our hands on was some sappy rom-com, and Tom and Chris began a competition to see who could hit the most characters with popcorn before they disappeared from the screen, which actually turned out to be of more interest than the film. Luke and I egged them on, pretending to be the characters by hiding behind Chris' laptop just to frustrate them further.

The evening was good fun, I won't lie, but I still felt slightly on edge when I finally headed to bed that night. Luke's change of heart was unnerving me and I wondered what had made him change his mind about us. He wasn't nearly as scary when mimicking the lovesick teenagers in the film, but I couldn't help thinking he had an ulterior motive. And, of course, the guilt of not telling Matt what I knew was settling in my stomach like I'd dropped a stone into a pond, weighing me down as I tried to walk. Thank goodness it wasn't long until I could tell him.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

The next morning began with light streaming in through the gap in my curtains, and I smiled even as I squinted against it. I'd allowed myself a lie-in, since there was nothing important to do until lunchtime, and it was nearly half past ten by the time I got up. Chris was out at his lecture, and I presumed that Luke and Tom were still sleeping, so I allowed myself a relaxing shower, using up all the hot water for the morning and not even caring. I wrote 'Good Morning' in the steamed up mirror, listening to the squeak of my skin against the glass, and added a smiley face for good measure before leaving to get dressed.

Wanting to make a good impression, I pulled on a white jumper with thin black stripes and some black skinny jeans. I brushed through my hair as I arranged my stuff in a small pile on my newly-made bed, sorting through my lecture notes to find the information on entropy. I found my badge lying on the desk and pinned it to my jumper where it could be seen but wouldn't draw too much attention. Rehearsing what I was hoping to say in my mind, I shoved a purple scarf into my rucksack and left it lying beside the bed.

I still had an hour to go before I was needed at the Cavern Club. If I gave myself fifteen minutes to walk there and another five minutes to arrive promptly, I had to find some way to kill forty minutes by myself in the flat. I put some money in my wallet so that I could pay for lunch and studied the map Matt had given me, looking to see where the monitors were patrolling at this very moment in time. They were on the complete opposite side of town, and obviously worked fairly systematically so that they would arrive here in the late afternoon. I found myself wishing that it was like the Marauder's Map, just so that we could see their exact positions, and shook my head in despair at my own idiocy.

With half an hour still to go, I started drumming out a beat on my desk. I paced the room, humming to myself, and unwound the knots in my headphones. I rearranged the order of the food in the shared fridge, Tom finally getting up and eyeing me strangely as I shuffled out of the way to allow him to reach the cereal boxes.

"I'm off to the club," I finally told him, unable to keep waiting around for any longer. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"We've all got lectures today," he told me between mouthfuls of cornflakes, "so there might not be anybody in when you get home." I patted my pockets to make sure I had my keys with me, because I didn't want to risk getting locked out and having to wait for them to get home.

"That's fine. Have a good day, Tom." I left then, hurrying down the stairs towards the exit to the flat. I could hear my footsteps on the linoleum floor of the hallways and chatter coming from the doors that were slightly ajar, but it wasn't as loud as I'd expected. Even the other day, when Chris and Luke had invited some other students over to get drunk, they hadn't been that loud. Maybe my hearing was just going.

I glanced over at Matt's house as I passed by on my way. It looked completely empty and lifeless, and I wondered if they were all convening before I arrived there. As I looked, however, I noticed that Matt's window looked out towards mine. We could probably see each other if we got the timings right. I winked at the security camera on the side of the building and made my way down to the club.

I hadn't really considered the position of the place before, aside from grumbling that it was out of the way and difficult to find, but after finding out all the information from Matt, it made sense that it was so hidden away. The monitors probably knew of its existence, but it was likely that they'd miss it out accidentally when walking along the street simply because it was behind a few other buildings. They probably checked the place thoroughly and definitely wouldn't miss it out on one of their detailed checks, but it obviously wasn't frequented. I made a mental note to ask Matt whether they'd been there much before and where he hid his folders when they did come around.

When I reached the club, I pushed the door open and was able to hear music floating around the room, drum fills cutting through what seemed like an endless mash-up of slap bass and punk pop. Matt was slumped on one of the bar stools, leaning over the counter itself to talk to Sophie. She was washing up some glasses and they spoke quietly, so I couldn't hear them over the music. I tiptoed up behind Matt, holding my finger to my lips when Sophie saw me, and I saw her own lips twitch slightly. She continued talking to him as if I wasn't there so, when I dove for his waist with my hands, he squealed and leaped from his seat.

"Dom!" he laughed, high pitched giggles spiralling up into nowhere as I pulled my hands back. "Cheeky!" I shrugged.

"I like to keep things exciting. Dramatic entrances are too mainstream," I said flippantly.

"You're a little early. I'll admit, I wasn't expecting you just yet."

"I like to be fairly prompt." He snorted and Sophie hid her grin behind a tea towel.

"So I see. Next time I'll give you a time five minutes later than we begin, and you'll probably still be here early." I rolled my eyes at him.

"I'm only ten minutes early. There was nothing to do in the flat so I figured I'd come down here and see if I could help with anything."

"You could help me do the washing up," Sophie suggested, throwing me another tea towel anyway. I caught it and slid behind the counter to dry my own share of glasses. Presumably they didn't earn quite enough to afford to get a dishwasher in the place.

"The others should be here in just a minute," Matt informed me. "Morgan and Paul were out food shopping when I left, so hopefully they won't be too long."

"Dan was practising when I left. I texted him a couple of minutes ago to remind him, because you know what he's like when he gets on that piano."

"Can't say I can find anything wrong with it. He's really quite helpful. Sophie's brother Dan's been teaching me the basics of piano," Matt added, for my benefit.

"Matt's picking it up really well." An uncharacteristic blush morphed on Matt's usually colourless cheeks and he mumbled to himself, looking at the floor and brushing blue hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, wow. That's pretty cool," I commented. "I wanted to learn it as a kid but I wasn't very good at being musical, really."

"You look like you could carry a beat, though. You should get behind the kit sometime and we could have a jamming session."

"What's this about jamming sessions?" a booming voice asked from the doorway. I turned to see another young man standing there, flipping the sign on the door to 'Closed'. He had floppy, sandy blonde hair and tanned skin, and he walked with a swagger verging on over-confidence.

"Never you mind, Dan," Sophie answered him, throwing her dishcloth at him and coming out from behind the bar counter. "Have you seen the other two?"

"I saw two figures hurrying down the street when I parked, might've been them. Not too sure, to be honest."

"How're you doing, Mr Lopez?" Matt cut in.

"No different to when I last saw you on the weekend, Mr Bellamy. You're looking well, I see." Matt gave a breathless laugh and got up from his bar stool, pacing around the room as we waited for Paul and Morgan to arrive. As soon as the two boys could be heard in the hallway, Matt ran to the front door and locked it. Paul sat down cross-legged in the middle of the floor and the five of us sat in a circle. Once Matt was satisfied with our secrecy, he joined the circle.

"Morgan," he began, "what's your favourite colour?"

"Lime green with a dash of tequila," came the reply, and I felt a frown forming as I watched Matt go around the circle asking questions.

"Paul, which beach did you used to visit every day for a year?"

"Westward Ho!" he answered.

"Dom, can I see your badge, please?" I unpinned it and handed it to him, still bewildered by the interrogation, and he turned it over in his palms before handing it back to me.

"Matt, are you sure this is a good idea?" Dan questioned. "We've never included the students before for a good reason. You might've handed this badge to a spy and not realised."

"Dan, I trust him, okay?"

"I can see that, but you remember what happened recently with the onslaught of spies that weren't quite careful enough. They integrated themselves into the society and you would've been caught out if it weren't for those trust issues of yours. Just because Dom seems like a trustworthy guy doesn't mean he actually really exists." Part of me was hurt that he doubted not only my worth, but my entire existence, but I knew that it was just a precaution. He had every reason to be wary of me. The rest of me swelled with pride that Matt trusted me already, as the others seemed to regard him as generally paranoid.

"Dan, I'm the leader of this group, am I not? I don't like to use this authority over you but I'm going to have to remind you of your place here. Dom, tell me something that nobody knows about you." I paused, swallowing audibly as I tried to think of something that nobody would ever find out but wasn't too embarrassing that I couldn't admit it to the group.

"Er, I've got a birth mark on my right leg?" I told him, unable to look anyone in the eye. I heard a derisive snort from Paul and I looked up to see Matt unsuccessfully trying to hide a wicked grin, his ocean eyes dancing.

"Interesting," he teased, and my cheeks heated to impossible temperatures as I sensed the rest of the group laughing at me. "That'll be your security question, so make sure you don't forget that one." I had a feeling I wouldn't forget this mortification for quite a while.

Matt asked the rest of the group for their identification, comprehension finally hitting me through the daze, and then he slammed a folder down in the middle of the circle.

"Research is on a go-slow. I can't find anything new- have any of you?" The other slowly shook their heads and Matt sighed. Tentatively, I reached for my rucksack and pulled out my notes.

"I-I have something, Matt," I mumbled, the shame hanging over me refusing to retreat as I stumbled over my words.

"Go ahead, Dominic." After a second to gather my thoughts, I laid the notes out in front of me. Matt immediately picked one of them up and started scanning it, hungry for the new information. "Imagine the spotlight's on you." I blanched. "Or don't, if it makes you feel better."

"Well, erm," I wrung my hands and tried to remember my plans from before leaving the house, "I made a few observations about the town. There've been students missing from several different courses, and I know that my main professor is missing too. It seems strange for them all to be ill at once, especially for the first week."

"More disappearances," Morgan noted with a nod. "I've seen that around the town, too, but I thought I was just imagining things."

"I was in a cafe last night and I asked the woman who runs the place if she's noticed anything strange about the town. She seemed like she wanted to tell me something but instead just regurgitated the same information about the locals avoiding the students, but, I don't know, do you guys have something on that?"

"I did a little asking around, did a questionnaire on a few friends, and found that lots of us are actually jealous of you guys," Sophie said, chocolate brown eyes focussed steadily on me, "because you can leave this place and we can't. It makes them uneasy knowing they're trapped here."

"We can't just do questionnaires for everything, though," Matt interrupted. "People will get suspicious if we just go around asking them for their opinions like some scam company selling holidays."

"I was thinking maybe I could help out by asking questions for my studies," I explained. "I need to do quizzes on people and study their responses, and although some things need a single focus point, some of them need a broader spectrum of answers for good analysis. I could pretend that's what I'm doing my final paper on, if you guys need any extra information."

"That'd be...really helpful. Thanks, Dom." He gave me a genuine smile, crooked tooth partially hidden behind his lips, and I felt myself relaxing a little bit, my shoulders dropping. "What's this you've got here, though? It looks kind of complicated."

"Oh, the physics thing? Well, er, I was doing a little research last night. This'll sound completely insane and I'm probably wrong but I was looking up the isolation system theories and instead came across something about isolated systems, which has something to do with thermodynamics..."

"In an isolated system, entropy can only increase," Paul breathed. "I did Physics here at the University and I remember that being one of the first things we did a paper on. We had to learn about the full thing, all the different laws and the contradictions. You're right, Dom."

His eyes were wide as he stared at me, and he pulled one of my pieces of paper from the middle of the circle and began reading it intently. The other four were giving me blank looks.

"Basically, entropy represents one of two things. Either it stands for the fading of energy from a system or the gradual descent into madness," Paul elaborated.

"So, here in Exeter, we are living in an isolated system, and this means that one of these things will happen. Either we will cool and just end up subdued, or we will go mad just like before all of this began, with the two rival groups fighting for control over the city. We'll just boil over. Either way it's a recipe for disaster," I continued.

"Where did you find this?" Matt inquired softly, his face inquisitive.

"I went to the library and looked at the old government records. And then I did a little extra research on the internet for the science-y side." Silence fell over the group as they read through my notes, murmuring with agreement as they took in what I'd written. I shifted awkwardly on the floor, my legs digging into the hard surface, and tapped my knee absently.

"This could actually be a genuine find. This is really serious stuff, Dom. And it explains rather a lot. If the disappearances are supposed to symbolise the loss in energy, it means the government will be trying to subdue us. We need to stop that. Dom- you're a genius!" he exclaimed, a huge smile gracing his sharp features.

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't go quite that far," I scoffed disbelievingly, knowing I couldn't really take the credit for typing a few words into Google.

"Matt, what are we going to do?" Morgan asked, the group turning to Matt for orders.

"Well," he began slowly, thinking through his response. As the 'leader' of the group, he had to make the main decisions and we were to follow him. If he did something wrong, he was the one to blame. Everything he said had to be carefully processed in his mind first, and from what I'd seen of Matt's spontaneous nature so far, I imagined that it was quite the difficult task for him. "We can create an action plan, now. I think we have sufficient research to actually start doing things. If they're planning to make sure we all fade out, even getting the students involved, they're obviously following this entropic thing. Of course, we can't really do anything just yet, but I'd like to get going as soon as possible."

"Dom and I could try and do a little more research before the next meeting if you want, Matt," Sophie interjected, and I nodded to show my approval.

"If you could, that'd be brilliant, thank you. Next meeting, I'll make sure to bring all of my research. It's been a little while since they checked here, so we'll have to make sure we have everything secure and safe. If we meet same time next Wednesday, would that suit you all? Make sure you bring anything and everything that could help us, and be extra careful for this next week, okay?"

"Matt, you were saying the other day that you wanted to get on with this quickly, and now you're saying that we have to wait. What are you thinking?"

"I'm just thinking that we need to be cautious. One wrong move and we're out. We need to go slow and steady, but we can't keep waiting too long, you're right about that." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. "We'll need a plan, of course. If we can, we should try and keep a record of who's in the city to see if anybody else goes missing, ask around about strange disappearances to keep track of their plans. If they take out many more people it'll become public suspicion, which may be just what we need to get them on our side. Perhaps..." he drifted off, lost in thought.

"You're not suggesting that we take people out ourselves and pretend that they've been kidnapped by the government, are you?" Dan questioned, a dubious tone to his voice.

"Well, not exactly, but-"

"Matt, you know that's not going to work. Don't even think about it. We need to be figuring out where these people are going and what they're doing with them, not messing around trying to fake something that we don't know about."

"I _know_, Dan, but it's not that easy." Exasperation leaked into his tone and a hand reached up to tug on his bright hair.

"But it could be that easy," Morgan added. "We could sneak in, infiltrate the system and see what they've done with the people and gather information on the place at the same time. You know how the town hall's all locked up? I bet they've got something going on in there."

"We know they've got something going on in there, mate. You'd have to be stupid not to realise that. I just don't think it's a good idea going in there this quickly when we don't know what we're doing." Matt's speech was now at breakneck pace, and he stammered over some words in his haste to get everything out there.

"Matt, mate, what are you waiting for? What happened to you? A week ago you would've been rushing into this without even thinking and now you're telling us to hold back? This is the first time we've actually felt confident about this and you're stopping us from moving forwards as a group. If we don't do something soon, the opportunity will be lost," Paul said forcefully.

"Paul, I know bu-" I could see the tension building in Matt's shoulders as the muscles clenched and unclenched beneath his shirt, and began counting down silently.

"He's right, Matt," Sophie interrupted. "You need to listen to us. Our time is now. You're no-"

"_Shut up!_" Matt yelled, his face flushed with rage. His eyes were ice cold, and I felt my heart freeze as his gaze passed over us. "All of you, be quiet. We aren't doing anything today and that's final. The next meeting will be at the same time Wednesday week. If you have suggestions for an action plan, we can go through them sensibly and calmly, but for now, we're being too hasty. This is the final decision. The meeting is over." As soon as his snap had begun, it ended. I was left windswept and stunned, watching as the others began to leave.

"You'll be lucky if we even turn up next week," Dan grumbled, hauling himself up from the floor and stalking out. Sophie raced after him, calling his name. Matt remained on the floor, his legs crossed and his head hung, seemingly intently focussed on a speck of dirt on the floor. Paul got up and loomed over me, staring me in the eyes.

"I don't know what your relationship is with Matt, but whatever you've done to him, it's not appreciated," he hissed. And just like that, he was gone. Shocked, I gaped after his retreating figure. All the research I'd done, all the help I'd offered, was discounted now. All they were going to think about is that I'd 'ruined Matt', when in truth, I hadn't actually done anything to him. How naive of them to think that I could actually affect this man in such a way! He was almost invincible. If anyone could lay a finger on his soul, it certainly wasn't me.

Morgan gave me a helpless look and followed Paul out of the club, the door slamming shut behind him, and I was left alone in the silence with Matthew. I could hear water dripping down the sides of the building and the sounds of the city outside these walls, but the rest of the room was completely blanketed with nothingness. I began to wonder whether Matt was even breathing.

I managed to startle myself by clearing my throat, and then whispered, "Matt, I'm really sorry." His head shot up to stare at me, the ice in his eyes beginning to thaw.

"Dominic, you don't need to be sorry for anything. I should be apologising to you," he admitted, his tone warm despite his posture remaining hostile. "I let my anger get to me and messed everything up. Even after all that research you did for me- which you didn't have to do at all, but I'm grateful you did- I just couldn't think of a plan. I'm truly sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's not your fault, Matt. They shouldn't have pressured you so much. I heard them questioning you about your haste last week, so I don't know why they've had a sudden change in heart. It's unfair of them to take it out on you."

"No, no, they have every right to. I'm a poor leader and I'm fully aware of that. I know that they're uncomfortable with me leading but I don't trust any of them enough to hand over the role. You saw them just now; if Paul had been the leader, we'd be out there fighting them right now. They're so eager to get going and think that, now we have this information, we can just go out there and save people. But it still needs processing, and you know that, don't you?" I nodded at him, awkwardly reaching out a hand to pat his shoulder and then thinking better of it.

"I don't really have any ideas of what to do with it, to be honest, but I figured it'd be helpful for something."

"It really is brilliant, Dominic. _You_ are brilliant." I breathed a laugh, shaking my head and feeling my hair bouncing against my cheekbones with the vigour of my denial.

"I'm really not, Matthew. I just looked a few things up, is all. I was bored and went to the library. Nothing special about that."

"Nobody else thought of it, though. It seems so simple and yet none of us even considered that idea. You're a genius for even thinking of it. I'm really glad I met you. Really, really glad." He looked up at me, eyes shining, and I had to look away, unable to return his gaze. I shivered under the intensity of it and nibbled on my bottom lip, desperately trying to squash the inappropriate thoughts running through my head. They weren't particularly foul, but they definitely weren't things I should be thinking about a friend. A straight friend.

I felt his hand between my shoulders and turned back towards him. He held the hand out towards me with a smile and I took it with my own, letting him haul me up from the floor.

"Are we going to have lunch, then?" he inquired, quirking an eyebrow at me, and I returned his grin. Wiping my other hand on my jeans-please note that it was Matthew that retained my hand, and wasn't by my own force-I took in a deep breath and cleared my thoughts, steadying myself. I was grounded. I was sane, I was patient, I was Dominic.

"Sure."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

We headed out of the club, packing all our research away in my rucksack and locking the door behind us. When I noticed we weren't turning right, I asked,

"Are we not going to the Italian place again?" Matthew chuckled as if that should've been obvious.

"I wouldn't take you there twice within a week. Well, half a week," he replied. "We can go back to mine. Paul and Morgan won't be there, I'm sure of it. And I've been told I make a wicked paella." He winked at me for effect and I found myself struggling not to laugh and crumble at the same time, which probably resulted in a strange contortion of my face.

"Sounds great." We walked along the street, taking note of the lack of people, and I wondered if the others were finding their lectures interesting. Were they still at home? I hoped that they weren't fighting again; I'd endured enough conflict for one day.

Of course, as per usual, I wasn't going to get my peace. As I glanced to the side, I realised Matt had forgotten to put his hat back on, and somebody else seemed to notice it at exactly the same time as me.

"Matt," I hissed. "Your hair." His eyes widened almost comically, if we hadn't been so scared, and he reached his hand up to pat the solid spikes, panic evident on his features. His hand darted into his pocket and pulled out a stripy beanie, shoving onto his head firmly and tucking all the strands away, but it was far too late for that. The people on the other side of the road pointed, and one of them even yelled,

"What do you think you're doing? We'll get the police onto you!"

"Run!" Matt screamed, sprinting away and dragging me with him. I stumbled over the cobbles until my legs kicked into action, aware of somebody pursuing us, and wrenched my hand from his grasp. I followed him as he darted down an alleyway and we wound around the blocks of buildings. I presumed that Matt was sure nobody was patrolling these areas, but we'd still look suspicious running around the blocks like this.

Eventually we lost our chaser and found ourselves on our own road. I wheezed, trying to catch my breath as we slowed down. Matt led me back to his house, just as he had done just a few days before, and unlocked the door hastily. We stepped in and slammed the door behind us, Matt yanking off the hat and discarding it on the floor.

"I'll have to get rid of that one," he muttered, disgust twisting his features. I leaned against the door and panted, not used to so much exercise after a whole three months free of any physical demands. Matt urged me over the threshold; however, instead of heading straight to his room, he made his way to the kitchen. There was a little table in the middle of the room and I sat down in one of the chairs after being turned away when I asked if I could help, content with just watching him dash around the room.

Watching Matt cook was like watching a little meerkat run around its zoo enclosure at feeding time. One minute he'd be frying vegetables on the hob, the next minute he be dashing over to the microwave to cook the rice, a second later he'd be folding napkins into birds whilst impatiently waiting for the food to cook. I shook my head at him disbelievingly.

"I'll admit, you never struck me as a cooking sort of guy," I told him honestly when he placed the steaming plate of paella in front of me.

"I'm not really," he replied. "My mum taught me a few things, pasta dishes mostly, but I figured I'd already taken you to the Italian place. Even if you did have pizza, it's not the same. And I wanted to try it out again." By this point, I'd already tried my first mouthful and was surprised at the explosion of flavours on my tongue.

"Jesus, that's good." Clearly Matthew's mother had taught him well, and my Shepherd's pie from the previous night didn't seem so impressive any longer.

"Why, thank you." He tilted his head to the side, watching me as I ate, and I squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Stop watching me, you twat." He giggled, and his laughter was infectious. I soon found myself laughing along with him, despite my comment not even being vaguely funny, and the sight of Matt doubled over in his seat was enough to make my eyes water from laughing so hard. He knocked his knee on the table and sent water sloshing over the edge of his cup, laughing harder at his accident. I held a hand to my face, pretending to be ashamed, and mopped up the mess before it could drip onto the floor. "Listen, you, eat your paella or I won't say anything funny ever again."

That shut him up.

We ate our meals quickly, and I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my full stomach like a granddad at Christmas when my meal was finished.

"That really was great, Matt. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he quipped, head down as he finished his meal. "Do you want another drink or something? I think I've got a bottle of red tucked in the cupboard somewhere..."

"What's the occasion?"

"Nothing, really. It doesn't have to be an occasion for wine, does it?"

"For students, it does," I laughed, and he smirked at me, getting out of the chair with a creak.

"Let's make it an occasion then." He pulled a bottle from the cupboard and I avoided looking at the label to stop my guilty conscience rising up and stopping me from enjoying the drink. He poured wine into two delicate glasses, the ruby liquid swirling around in the bottom of the cup. Sitting down opposite me once again, he tilted the rim of his glass to mine and we gently pressed them together. I took a sip of the rich liquid and closed my eyes, letting my head fall back as I savoured the taste. "This one's my favourite because you can taste the other fruits, instead of just grapes."

I nodded my agreement, not having enough experience to be able to compare wines. Matt was the same age as me, so it should've surprised me that he knew so much about it. However, I'd always agreed with the statement that things that usually required age limits should be judge on maturity instead, and seeing as Matt was able to run the Cavern club and lead The Resistance, I figured the drinking limit didn't matter to him too much.

I watched as he lifted the glass to his lips, and when he pulled it away, they were stained crimson from the liquid. He let out a deep sigh and a smile flickered across his face, eyes half-lidded to hide the churning blue behind. My tongue darted out to wet my own lips, and I diverted my attention to my glass to avoid making eye contact.

"Dominic, why don't you ever look at me?" he asked, his voice velvety and low, smooth with uncharacteristic slowness.

"I, w-well, I," I stammered, unable to find an explanation that didn't reveal the inner workings of my mind.

"I'm trying to get your attention here and you just keep turning away. I'd get it if we weren't friends but I just don't understand what's catching your eye so much that you can't even hold a conversation while looking at me." His tone wasn't accusatory so much as inquisitive, and when I finally turned to meet his gaze, he was staring at me with those alluring azure eyes, drawing me further into his trap. "Tell me. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that...I'm a bit lost." His smirk was borderline predatory and my bones turned to jelly beneath his stare.

"Can't you feel this, Dominic?" he whispered, words hanging heavy in the air. My throat was dry, voice raspy.

"Yes."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

I gulped down the bundle of nerves resting in my throat, wondering if Matthew could hear my heart thrumming through my body as clearly as I could.

"Nothing."

"Oh?" One delicate eyebrow raised, and I willed myself to see it as anything other than an invitation.

"Matt, I think you're drunk." He threw his head back and barked a laugh, quite unlike anything I'd heard from him before.

"I haven't even finished my first glass. You don't think I'm a boring old lightweight, do you?" I sniffed.

"Lightweights aren't boring, we're sensible."

"Right." He dragged out the vowel, swirling the liquid in his glass before taking another sip.

"Matt, I think you should be worrying about your hair being seen," I told him, my tone slipping over the edge towards overly formal in my attempt to change the subject. "There's nobody else in the town with blue hair, so you're the only suspect. If they catch you..." I left my sentence open, partially to hint at the danger and partially because I wasn't entirely sure what they would actually do.

"Don't worry, Dommy-o, I have a plan." I screwed my nose up at the name and he just laughed at me, waving a hand in my face. "I've got all the necessary precautions, although I'll have to go and get the spares after I use these up." I paused, mulling over what he'd just said as I drank the rest of my wine. Spares? Spare what? What was he playing at now? "Actually, we could sort it out now. Drink up, Dom." He swished his glass one final time and downed it all in one go. I blinked at him. He pulled back his chair, the sound of the legs scraping against the wooden floor making me cringe, and waited for me to get up, tapping his foot impatiently. He was already back to his usual attitude but my heart was still pounding painfully.

I finished my wine and followed him upstairs, finding myself standing beside him in the bathroom. There wasn't much space for two people in there, so I sat on the edge of the bath whilst I waited for him to finish rifling through the cupboards. He turned back towards me with a huge grin splitting his face, a bottle in his right hand. I peered at it and my mouth fell open.

"Red? You're not going ginger, are you?" I questioned in disbelief. He snorted at me.

"You think I'd actually go ginger? It's red, like, proper red."

"Proper red?" I chuckled at his struggle over the 'r'. He scowled at me and threw a flannel into my laughing face.

"Help me?" he asked, pouting sweetly and giving off his best innocent face. For the first time I caught myself wondering how innocent he actually was and clenched my fists until my fingernails dug into my palms.

"You want me to help you dye your hair?" He nodded.

"It needs to get all over. Otherwise you'll have little bits where the blonde pokes through and that'd look really stupid." I sighed.

"Fine. Do you have the blonde as well?" He pulled a packet out of the cupboard, tucked away among packets of pills, medicines, toiletries and hotel shower gels.

"We'll need to put this on first and then let it stay there for roughly half an hour to make sure all the blue comes out, otherwise I'll be green and that'd look awful."

"Why would green look any more awful than bright red?" I wondered, imagining his hair tomato red and laughing just at the image of it. He gave me a sidelong glance and shook his head, displeased. He mixed the powder in the packet with some water from the tap in a little bowl that seemed to appear out of nowhere until it formed a cream.

"We've got to make sure we don't get it on our fingers. The dye'll be alright, if you don't mind your fingers looking a little painful for a few days, but this could hurt your skin." He pulled two pairs of plastic gloves from the cupboard underneath the sink, chucking one and me and wriggling his hands into his own pair. I pulled them on, squirming at the feeling of the plastic against my skin, and wiggled my fingers at him.

"So, uh, what do I do?"

"You've just got to coat my hair with it. Like, make sure every little bit is covered. It's like rubbing in shampoo and stuff but it has to be completely covered. Or I will murder you." I didn't doubt him.

I watched him dip two fingers into the pot of dye and smear it on his head, using his fingertips to massage it in. Tentatively, I followed his lead, able to feel the texture of the cream through the gloves and shivering at the cold. I dabbed a bit on my fingers and slowly moved it to Matt's head, covering a few blue locks and flattening them to his scalp. He closed his eyes under the pressure and tilted his head back, still working with his own hands as I joined him with mine. Our fingers touched and I pulled back, seeing the smirk flicker across his face. Holding my breath, I gently twisted the hair between my fingers, feeling the silky smoothness sliding between the gaps when it was coated.

"I-is this right?" I hazarded a question, and Matthew simply murmured a confirmation, clearly enjoying himself far too much. I shifted my position awkwardly, my arm beginning to ache as I moved it over him.

"The main colour will be easier than this," he told me, eyes still closed, shoulders relaxed.

_Why don't you just give him a back massage while you're at it, Dominic? I'm sure he'd _love _that._

As much joy as listening to my inner self would give me, I ignored it. I had to stick to what I thought was best. So what if he was leading me on? He was my boss and I couldn't be engaging in this sort of relationship with him. Friends? That's fine. ...Lovers? No way. I'd get fired within a second.

When his hair was completely coated, we returned to his room. It was slightly messier than the other day, but his papers were all kept away in folders as per usual. He pulled them off the shelf and sat cross-legged on the floor, spreading them out in front of him. I added my papers to the pile and sat opposite him.

For half an hour, we tried and failed to figure out a plan. Matt began suggesting ideas, only to bite them back again and dismiss them as 'stupid' or 'foolish'. I couldn't think of anything other than poking around to explore the town hall, where Matt was certain most of the government plans were taking place.

"If you look at the map," he said thoughtfully, tapping a pen against his chin, "you can see there's an unnatural amount of space behind the town hall, but if you look in the town, you can see the building goes really far back. There's no room for a green or garden or something, so there's obviously part of the building that they haven't marked on all the maps. If that's not suspicious, I don't know what is. I bet they've got something covert going on in there." I nodded, hoping that I was following the same wavelength.

"We could pretend to be tourists and ask if there's a way around the hall," I suggested. "That might give us a little more information than we already have, and we can have a little time to study the shape better without drawing attention. We could pretend we're looking at the architecture."

"That's a good idea. I'm not sure whether any of us could get away with it, but you certainly could. Maybe if you took your mates or something, you could pretend to be exploring. There wouldn't be a chance of blowing the cover then, because your friends would just believe you really were going for tourist purposes. If they turn you away, we can just do a little more library research on the thing. Maybe there's a pattern with that thermodynamic thing you mentioned earlier. There must be something science-y going on there. And maybe that'd explain the boundaries, too."

When our half an hour of planning was up, we had a few extra papers that we were going to present to the meeting in a week. Matt dragged me back into the bathroom where he fixed a showerhead to the bath taps and bent over the edge, washing all the dye out of his hair. I turned away, too tempted by the droplets of water running down his face. As soon as he was satisfied, he reached for a towel from the airing cupboard and began drying it. Bright blonde strands were a shock to my eyes, and I squinted to recognise him underneath his mop.

"I should probably get it cut," he mumbled as he was towelling the last few locks, his hair needing to be ever so slightly damp for the rest of the dye to stick. The blonde fell in his face, blocking off my view of his eyes, and I bit my lip as I assessed his look. It wasn't so much blonde as yellow, and I wondered if we'd left it on for too long. Hopefully the dye would stick, as yellow didn't suit his features too well.

Suddenly he was tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and pulling it over his head, revealing a flat plane of porcelain skin. The bathroom light bounced off his skin, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and I turned my head, hiding my gasp. He must've thought I was going mad, and I bit the inside of my cheek. The image of his bare chest, however, was burned into my retinas, and it flashed in front of my eyes every time I so much as blinked.

I pulled a clean pair of gloves back onto my hands and filled the sink with the dye, unsure of how much to put in but tipping over the whole bottle after Matthew urged me. He clung to the rim of the bowl, tilting his head forwards and dipping in the tips of his hair.

"It's got to be even," he informed me, "and my skin will probably go as pink as your cheeks are right now if I get it on me." With images of the ground swallowing me flashing through my mind, I began to cup some of the dye in my hands and pour it over Matt's hair.

"Your scalp will probably be pretty pink, unless you do the brushing method I've seen in salons," I muttered.

"Nah, I tried that when I went black but it was too time-consuming. I don't mind giving my scalp a little colour. Might make me look less zombie-like." Indeed, the dark circles under his eyes only seemed to grow, and the paleness of his cheeks was beginning to grow pallid. Add that to his dangerously thin stature, and you might think he had a disease.

I carefully washed the dye into his hair, occasionally tugging on his hair to see if it was actually sticking or whether he would remain that horrific yellow for the rest of his life. After about ten minutes, Matt began wriggling around, obviously uncomfortable bent over the skin, and he pulled his head out to twist over so that he was looking at the ceiling. He winked at me, bare chest all on display, and I pretended not to see.

I couldn't help but notice the intimacy of the moment. I had my hands in Matthew's hair, massaging the deep colour into it. He was spread out before me, eyes closed peacefully and defences down. If I wanted to do anything in the moment, if my conscience allowed me to do anything, I could probably do it. All I allowed myself was a quick gaze at his impossibly flat stomach, which was graced by dark nipples and the tiniest tufts of hair under his arms, whilst he wasn't looking.

"It looks like I'm washing your hair in blood," I laughed, trying to alleviate the atmosphere and watching the scarlet liquid drip down my gloves when I pulled my hand out.

"Perfect." He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes.

"We can pretend you're washing your hair in the blood of your enemies. How fearsome you are!" He giggled at my remark, head jerking about in the sink. "Stay _still_, pest." That only made him laugh more, and I poked his sides for good measure, smiling as he jumped away from me, squealing like a little girl. He pointed at the liquid dripping from his torso.

"Look, Dom, you wounded me! Aah I've been shot, help me." He clutched his side, and would've done a good impression of a dying soldier if he hadn't been cackling hysterically. I watched the liquid drip onto the tiles, my mouth forming a round 'O' shape.

"Matt, I just stained your skin. And your bathroom floor." He waved his hand.

"Don't worry about it. I knew it was going to happen, but figured there'd be less of a mess if I let the perfectionist do it instead of attempting it myself."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Mock outrage flooded my tone, and I threatened to flick some of the dye onto his face.

We decided that he'd been floating around in the sink for long enough by that point and he pulled his head out, clicking his neck and wincing as he rubbed it. I drained the sink and used the showerhead to rinse the excess dye from his hair. Some of the water drained away as pink as frosting on a cake, and I began to get worried that none of it was staying. Matt reassured me that this was completely normal, but I couldn't help feeling responsible if it all went wrong. As funny as Matt with blonde hair may be, it did look incredibly stupid.

We padded into Morgan's room, and Matt rifled through his drawers to find a hairdryer, chucking neatly folded clothes onto his bed as I tutted at him. He stole away with the hairdryer into his room, plugging it in and standing in front of the tiny mirror resting on his chest of drawers. He ordered me to face the other way with a cheeky grin on his face, a matching one beginning to form on my own lips, and I reluctantly obliged. The sound of the hairdryer whirring away filled the room as he shook it around his head, the floorboards creaking as he adjusted his position to get the right angle. Several times I heard him swear, and I wondered whether drying his hair was an unusual thing to do.

There was silence as the hairdryer was turned off, and then nothing.

"You can look now."

I turned around and wasn't sure whether to laugh or stare in wonder. He'd spiked it up slightly with a bit of hair gel, and it almost looked like his hair was on fire. Bright, pillar-box red sprung up from the top of his head, drawing my attention to it immediately. His eyes sparkled like sunlight on the surface of the sea, and his skin looked somehow paler when paired with such vivid colours, like the cream of thick, professional letter paper-the sort decorated with that perfect calligraphy that could even be considered erotic for people like me.

Standing there in front of me, smirking like the devil, arms spread wide in invitation, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep myself afloat for much longer. 'Would you like to join the Church of Bellamy?' Quite gladly, if it meant that I got to worship this every day of my life.

"What do you think?" he asked me, voice surprisingly soft and tired despite his confidence.

"It suits you," I replied honestly, amazed by how well the red highlighted his best features.

"I think I prefer it to the blue. I hope I get to keep this colour for a while." I nodded in agreement. The blue might've looked wilder and cool, but the red represented him as a person. It was passionate; it was dangerous; it was Matthew.

He shrugged another shirt over his head, telling me he would clean up the bathroom later, and curled up on the bed where I'd perched myself. He peered at me from his position on his side, gesturing at the papers on the floor.

"We'll...we can do some more work on that another time, yeah?" he mumbled, exhaustion evident in his voice.

"Sure, that sounds fine by me."

"Are you working tonight?"

"Yeah. Do you need something?"

"No, no, I just..." he patted the bed beside him, his eyes falling closed and his fingers curling into the duvet beneath him. "Just wondering. I...hmm," I noticed the patterns immediately: the sudden withdrawal, the slowness of his speech, the serene expression. Aware of the circles under his eyes, I figured it was best to leave him.

Gently, I brushed away the lock of scarlet hair that was falling in his face, tucking it behind his ear. He gave me a slight smile. "G'night, Dominic."

"Goodnight, Matthew," I whispered, watching as he disappeared into unconsciousness. I found a blanket tucked at the end of his bed and draped it over his sleeping form, his body wriggling towards the newfound warmth and tucking his feet inside the pocket of air. After collecting all the notes and putting them back in the folder, I gave him one last, long look and left his room, letting the door click shut behind me.


	9. Chapter 9

I didn't mean to stay around Matt's house for too long, not wanting to look like I was poking my nose into private business, but I felt it necessary to clean up some of the mess I'd made in the bathroom before I left. I desperately scrubbed at the dye and told myself over and over that Matt didn't mind when it stubbornly refused to part with the floor, scowling at my face in the mirror when I passed it.

I flicked off the bathroom light and jogged downstairs, only to hear a pair of keys twisting in the door. In the heat of the moment, I lost my wits and sprinted back upstairs, peering down from behind the banister as Paul and Morgan walked in.

"I really think we should tell him," Paul was saying, turning towards Morgan as he stepped into the hallway. "It's unfair to keep things like this. And dangerous."

"You're right but...what if we're wrong? What if this guy is completely human and not even plotting anything against anybody at all?" Morgan asked, doubt clouding his tone. The two disappeared from view, but I could still hear their conversation from the living room.

"Then we're wrong and we'll just have to suck it up. But I'm pretty confident that we're right. You've seen the change in Matt over these past few days. I tell you what- I think he's been brainwashed." A derisive snort sounded from the room.

"You're starting to sound like Matt himself with all these damn theories of yours. He's not brainwashed, that's for sure. Maybe a little influenced, but definitely not brainwashed. Listen, I think we should wait a while."

"And you accuse _me_ of sounding like Matt."

"No, no, no, listen. We watch and observe, okay? This guy doesn't seem harmful at all, just a little lost. Maybe he's having a laugh playing with us. It's too late to do anything without taking drastic action, so we'll just have to hope that we're wrong for now." I shuddered at the thought of drastic action, Morgan's sudden solemnity bringing out various scenarios in my mind. None of them sounded at all great to me.

"And if we're right?" A pause. I held my breath, waiting for an answer, and swore I could hear the floorboards creaking underneath my feet.

"We extract him. Knock him cold. Try and do some of those hypnotism methods. And if that doesn't work, we'll just...we'll have to fake a plan. Tell him to run an errand for us and pretend that he accidentally got caught and shipped away by the government. No suspicion hanging over our heads, but it's a perfectly real scenario. The kid's just a student- what does he know?"

There was silence before I heard somebody switch on the TV, a program buzzing in the background.

"Fine," Paul muttered reluctantly. "We'll follow that plan. I'll be keeping a close eye on this 'Dominic' for the next week, though. He smells like trouble to me." One of them turned up the volume on the TV and, once I'd heard them laugh at least once, I figured that it was time to make my escape. Slowly, I crept down the stairs, wincing when my foot slipped and I missed one step, crashing to the bottom. I froze when I reached the end, carefully pulling on the door handle and opening it up. Hopefully neither of them would notice the breeze that blew in through the gap.

I'd sneaked out of the house a few times before, but only in my own home, not somebody else's. Not knowing where the floorboards were particularly creaky and where I would need to be careful about messing up an arrangement of keys or jackets. Thankfully, nobody noticed my exit, or at least didn't come running after me as I swiftly left the premises and raced over the road to my own flat.

It was only after I'd called out, "Hello?" that I remembered nobody was in and I had the house to myself. After making my daily call to my mother, I flicked on my CD player and blasted Queen songs to my heart's desire. Sprawling across my bed, I pulled a book off the shelf and began to read, gladly disappearing into somebody else's convoluted life instead of remaining in my own. My legs dangled off the side of the bed and my shoulder was beginning to ache from y position, but as I sang along atrociously to the lyrics, I felt a broad smile appearing on my face.

That was how Luke found me two hours later when he came home from his lecture. My door was wide open, so he poked his head in to see what I was up to and found me with my legs spread wide open.

"Hey, Dom," he greeted me, giving me a shy wave as I looked over my shoulder at him. My fringe fell in my face as I returned the greeting and I could see him laughing at me when I pulled it back. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Reading. It's a very good book," I told him. "I don't suppose you've read it?"

"I can't tell you if I don't know what it is." I flashed him the cover for a brief moment before returning to the story.

"'We Need to Talk About Kevin.' Great book." He shook his head at me and I rolled my eyes.

"I thought not. You should definitely read it, although I'm not sure whether it'll be your sort of thing."

"I'm more of a comic guy," he admitted, unabashed. "Never grew out of my superheroes phase. I guess I'm just ten years old at heart." He chuckled and I grinned at him, relaxing a little in his presence. It wasn't that I hadn't trusted Chris' judgment of him, but I had been waiting to find evidence of it myself, and he seemed to be acting fairly normal. More normal than I could manage, anyway.

"Comics are still cool, though. Can't say I've read many myself, but I can find some appreciation for a good old copy of the Beano." The song changed to something louder and energetic, and I stretched across the room to turn the volume down slightly. "You a Queen fan?"

"Queen are pretty cool. Everyone likes Queen, though, right? I've never met a person that doesn't know who they are." I raised my eyebrows.

"You'd be surprised. A lot of the kids I went to school with barely acknowledged that they ever existed, and those that did know of them dismissed them as 'poof music'."

"'Poof music,'" he repeated with a smirk, obviously amused. "I guess they are a little on the flamboyant side, but that doesn't mean they aren't good."

"That's what I said!"

Admittedly, my love for the band was a little more than your average Joe, but it infuriated me when people brushed them off in favour of the newest DJ. Over the past couple of years, proper musical bands had gradually gone out of fashion more and more until it was rarely heard anymore. My family were fairly well-educated in music, so I'd heard classical floating around our home back in Manchester and I myself had been drawn to rock music from years just before I was born, but most people I knew preferred the tunes created on a computer. Places like the Cavern were a rarity; sure, you could still go and see bands at a concert or festival, but more often than not it'd be for show. Most of the work was done by people backstage with computers. Seeing kids running around on a little stage with actual guitars and angst-riddled tunes they'd written themselves was something to cherish amongst our society.

"Anyway, I'm going to type some of these notes up. I'll see you later." He disappeared from my doorway and I kicked the door gently closed behind him, checking the time. I didn't have to be at work for another hour and my stomach still felt full of paella and tension, so I made plans to have dinner in half an hour and continued reading.

However, after being disturbed, I couldn't concentrate anymore. My mind kept wandering to the events of the afternoon and I realised I hadn't actually reflected on what I was going to do. Morgan and Paul didn't trust me, that I was certain of. Somehow within the next week I'd need to prove my worth, otherwise I'd need to be careful of anything they ordered me to do. Perhaps it would just be best to stick to what Matt told me to do and not suggest so many ideas, as helpful as I might believe them to be. Whatever I chose to do, I'd have to be cautious when around them until The Resistance's next meeting, and probably after then as well.

And what had Matthew been playing at this afternoon? Inviting me over for lunch I understood, because that was a friendly thing to do. Grabbing my hand and not letting go seemed a little odd but I wasn't objecting to the added comfort of it. Asking him to help dye his hair? I didn't think most people would be comfortable with that.

Eventually I placed the book on the side and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling as I replayed our conversation until the words began to blur together. _Can't you feel this, Dominic?_ I asked myself over and over, still unable to provide a suitable answer that didn't end with me pinning him against the nearest flat surface.

Oh, Matthew, if only he knew how much I was feeling it. Maybe then he'd stop trying so hard.

But probably not.

After persuading myself not to drill my fingers into my eyes, I rolled off the bed and crawled to the kitchen, blinded all over again simply by my memories. I made myself a sandwich, my stomach still not up for anything much heavier than that, and sat by myself at the table, not realising that my CD was still playing until the music finally disappeared.

Once I'd finished chewing my sandwich to mush, I retrieved my bag from my room and headed off to work, nerves curling in the bottom of my gut for what felt like the millionth time that day. Would Morgan and Paul be there, scrutinising me from the sides? I was sure it would put me off if they were.

When I arrived at the club, however, I was surprised to find it empty. I hurried out to the back but there was nobody hanging around, and when I returned from searching, there were a few people waiting outside. I wrung my hands and raced over to the stereo, putting on the nearest CD and then opening the door, swinging the sign around and letting the people in. They immediately disappeared over into the corner of the room, and I wondered what the club was actually used for when they didn't have bands performing. Presumably Matt got in at least one artist every week, but it seemed a little boring if all they were going to do was sit in the corner and listen to music.

Then again, I supposed some people needed a safe haven to go to. This was a place for the outcasts, the ones that liked the old music and the one suspicious of the cage they were kept in. They could simply be using this place to hide from the security cameras planted on every corner. As the minutes ticked by, more and more people arrived but there was still no sign of any of the others. I began to wonder whether Paul and Morgan had already begun orchestrating something, or whether I hadn't been fully cleared to be hired. Were they testing my capabilities?

I judged that the people chatting together now were the regulars, the ones who turned up here nearly every day. Some of them were high school kids and pulled books out of their bags, presumably trying to get some homework done without their parents breathing down their necks. I dragged out a few more tables, arranging chairs around each one as more and more people filled in. It wasn't exactly a hugely popular venue, but there were at least fifty people crowding into the main hall. To me that seemed quite impressive, especially since I wasn't yet providing drinks and there weren't any bands playing.

I headed over to the main group, hoping to catch somebody's attention.

"Does anybody want a drink?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the music and the din of their chatter. "Tea, coffee, water? Anybody?"

"Who the hell are you?" some kid asked rudely, sneering at me from one of the seats I'd only just put out. I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth and resisted the urge to retort.

"I'm Dom, I'm new here. Matt said I could join the gang."

"Hey, hey, did you guys hear that? He called the staff here a 'gang'." Raucous laughter filled the room and I could feel my cheeks growing pink.

"Well, whatever it is. I work here now."

"Fetch me a drink, mate," one of the kids yelled, the adults giving him disgusted looks from the corner.

"What do you want? I can get you a water or a hot drink, if that's what you fancy."

"If that's what I fancy? Jeez, you're a posh knob. Where're you from, Dom?" My name slithered through his teeth like a foul word, and I desperately prayed for Matt to walk in soon. It began to dawn on me, however, that he might still be in bed, and wouldn't end up coming at all. It could be an extremely long night.

"I'm from Manchester, but I really don't think it's any of your business." Which, of course, only spurred on more mocking laughter. "Listen, do you want a drink or not?"

"You're not gonna let us have a beer or something?"

"Bar doesn't open until six," I muttered, ignoring the fact that he was clearly underage. I didn't want to spoil their fun, no matter how rude they were being. Matt would kill me if I turned away his regulars.

"Spoilsport." I rolled my eyes at him and pulled out my own chair, wishing I'd brought a book or some form of entertainment with me. Stupidly, I'd assumed the place would be as lively as the night before, but clearly I was wrong. My only hope was that either Matt or Sophie would turn up, since they were the only two people that seemed to tolerate me.

As the hands of the clock slowly ticked towards six o'clock, I found myself wiping my damp palms on my jeans even more. I'd have to open the bar soon enough, serving up drinks for these little rats until goodness knows how late. What I desperately needed was for their mothers to come in and drag them out by their ears, but the 0.001% chance of that happening didn't give me too much hope.

As soon as six o'clock arrived, a surprisingly orderly queue formed in front of the bar. I pushed behind the counter and began serving up glasses, passing them to kids and adults alike and checking every so often to make sure I was receiving the right cash. People were just starting to come back for a second glass- already!- when I saw a figure dart furtively through the crowd. Matt was wearing the same black hat I'd seen him in the first time around and a grin spread across his face as he got closer to me. He slipped beside the counter beside me and a few members of the group cheered. He winked at them and told me to go and change the music, relieving me of bar duties for a second.

They seemed to ease up as he got there, and when I looked back, he was leaning across the counter and chatting to those in the queue. I sighed to myself, knowing I'd never be as popular among the crowds as Matt was, but hoping that they might go easy on me after I'd been there a couple of times.

I browsed the shelf over the stereo in the corner, looking for something that I enjoyed but everyone would like. A lone Hendrix CD was resting at the end of one section, and I plucked it from the case and put it on play. The room was immediately filled with lazy guitar riffs and I could almost feel myself settling in, the familiar music making me feel more at home. I joined Matt behind the counter again, and for once it was clear of people. He grinned at me and pulled a lock of hair from under his hat. It was as red as the wine we'd had earlier, a shock of bright scarlet against his pale skin, and I couldn't help my mouth falling open in awe.

"That looks really cool, Matt," I said as he tucked it back into his hat.

"Cheers. Thanks again for your help. You really didn't have to clean the bathroom, yknow. Or at least try to." I ducked my head shyly.

"I felt like being helpful."

"And I can't believe I fell asleep with you there! I don't know what you must've thought of me, it's terrible."

"I thought it was quite sweet, actually."

"I'm not sweet!" he spat, pulling his head back and making a face.

"Maybe not like that you're not, but when you were sleeping like a baby it's hard to agree with me."

He shook his head at me, embarrassed by my confession, and served up another drink.

"And I'm sorry for not getting up and leaving you here for a whole hour. It seems all I'm doing this evening is apologising, but that must've been difficult." I picked up a tea towel and began to wash some of the glasses that were returned to the counter.

"No worries, Matt. It was good to see what trying to lead the place is like."

"How did you find it?"

"Difficult," I admitted with a small smile. He laughed at me.

"The kids can be a bit of a handful. They're good kids, honestly, but you've got to get used to them and let them get used to you. Sort of like when you get a new pet, you have to wait a while before you can pick it up." Nice. I was being compared to a tiny animal. Always a good conversation starter.

Nobody else from our group turned up all night, and Matt didn't mention any encounters with Paul or Morgan, so I figured I wouldn't pester him about it. There was no use nosing around his private business if I was trying to make a good impression.

The evening crunched along slowly and the chatter began to get louder as people downed a couple of more drinks. The Hendrix CD finished and I trudged over to the stereo to put on something more lively. The arty guitar of Franz Ferdinand started blasting out of the speakers of a couple of cheers from the crowd, so I figured it could stay there if they liked it so much.

People began to get up and dance to the music, drinks in hands or left with friends on tables. Matt naturally filled the role of bartender, starting to mix up a few different drinks and graciously thanking people for coming whilst assuring they remained appropriate. I wondered what a skinny guy like him was supposed to do if people began to get too rowdy and promised myself to ask Matt for stories about brawls when we had a bit more free time.

Halfway through the evening, when the onslaught of people let up for a little bit, Matt passed me a drink with a cheeky wink. I gladly downed it, the cool liquid sliding down my throat easily and refreshing me in the growing heat of the room. I quickly made myself another but vowed not to drink it so fast, trying to keep track of how much I was drinking. I'd had that glass of wine at matt's house only a few hours ago, and I'd considered the possibility that he'd intoxicated me with his eyes.

I didn't know the album playing too well, only aware that I enjoyed many of the songs, and was caught off guard when one particular track came along. Matt was washing glasses beside me, hips swaying gently, and I caught a sneaky glint in his eyes. I was bemused for a moment, his dancing not the most graceful of movements, until I recognised the song playing.

I think my brain might have short-circuited.

I remember thinking that it was a shame Matthew had his hair covered. The vividness would've matched perfectly with his devilish smirk as he spun around to swap towels, chucking the damp towel in my face. I peeled it away in time to see him wiggling his bum by the sink, and I drew my eyes away reluctantly. I could see him constantly moving around in my peripheral vision and bit down on my bottom lip until the metallic taste of blood hit my tongue.

Of course, he wasn't going to make it easy for me. By the time the first chorus came around, I was gritting my teeth, able to hear Matthew singing along behind me as I served people. It was strange o hear that chorus, those words I knew off by heart and had fantasised about being sung to me, sung by the familiar stranger. Because that is, essentially, what he was. In that moment I decided that I didn't know Matthew at all.

I'd never actually heard him sing before that moment. He hadn't ever mentioned it before, and I hadn't bothered asking him about it, either. Having a horrific singing voice myself, I preferred not to raise the subject in fear of revealing something embarrassing. Matthew, however, had a lovely voice. It was ever so slightly shaky despite his clear confidence, and perfectly pitched. I could imagine him sitting at home with his acoustic guitar resting in his lap, singing soft, melodic tunes to himself.

Except, of course, the words spilling from his mouth at this particular moment in time were less smoothing and more filthy.

If I'd had doubts that Matthew knew what he was doing to me, they were immediately dismissed. His eyes sparkled as he shimmied around me, and I was so embarrassed that I could feel the tips of my ears burning white hot. When I turned around, Matthew's slender hips fleetingly touched to my own, once, twice, three times, so lightly that I might've believe it was accidental if he hadn't been smirking at me. I could feel sweat pooling on my back, my tight shirt restricting any movement I might've made to extract myself from the potentially incriminating situation.

When Matthew began to sing low in my ear, I lost control. Dulcet tones murmuring, "You're the only one I'd ever want," blessed my aching heart, wet lips occasionally brushing against my earlobe and sending shivers down my spine.

It was too much to take: the air smelled of alcohol, the presence of pheromones dimly registering in the back of my mind; the music was loud and in time with my ever-quickening heartbeat; the dark room concealed my shame and anybody else fortunate enough to witness Matthew's dancing. Having him so close and yet so far frustrated me like you wouldn't believe, and with the day's earlier events still fresh in my mind, it was too easy to be overwhelmed by the waves of temptation.

One more casual brush against my side and the glass I was holding fell from between my hands, shattering into tiny piece on the floor. Matt leapt back, caught unawares, shock flooding his expression. There were a few seconds before either of us reacted, my pulse reaching its highest speed yet, our eyes meeting across the broken glass. The bright blue was barely visible, his pupils swallowing the colour as he stared at me, and I was sure that he could see right through me.

Several people close to the bar were watching us curiously and whispering to each other, and I ducked my head, apologising profusely. There was a dust pan and brush poking out from one of the cupboards and I reached for it, bending down to scrape up the glasses whilst Matt dealt with more customers, explaining my foolishness.

Everything continued on around us. The music continued playing, the track thankfully switching to something more neutral, people continued to order drinks, the world continued to turn. However, as I brushed the remains of the glass into the bin under the sink, I caught Matt's eyes again and couldn't help but wonder whether things had changed between us for good.


	10. Chapter 10

When I stumbled back home that night, I could feel the energy thrumming in my veins. I hadn't had a third drink after that glass of beer, aware that I had my first practical the following morning and would need to be prompt, but the excitement of the evening had me on a high. As nothing particularly exciting was occurring that evening, Wednesdays being the only days when bands didn't come and play, Matt organised a competition among the locals. Most of the students had sloped off at an earlier hour, returning home for dinner or even, shock horror, curfew.

The night ended up turning into something that vaguely resembled a karaoke night, with people during various stages of intoxication scrambling onto the stage and attempting to wow the crowd with their singing skills. I wondered to myself why Matt never got up and sung, but when he urged me to go up and I refused, I decided not to push him. Still, I amused myself watching them, sometimes going up in groups to do horrendous renditions of classic songs. I think somebody attempted to mimic the electronica currently being played on every radiowave existing, but it was such a miserable failure that most people couldn't see the funny side and kicked him off the stage.

After we'd cleared everyone out, Matt thanked me for helping him and I apologised again for dropping the glass.

"Oh, no, no," he'd said, frantically waving his hands around, "it was my fault. I jogged you and then you dropped it, I'm sorry." I merely raised an eyebrow, letting him believe what he wanted to. Perhaps he was aware that he was lying through his teeth, or perhaps he really believed he'd knocked it out of my hands. Usually this was what I loved in people, because you never knew what they were thinking, but of course I abhorred it when it turned against me.

Then again, I wasn't sure I wanted to get inside Matt's head. It was probably dark and twisted in there, a little too crowded to be safe.

Sleep welcomed me once again that night, and I began to sense a pattern growing. University life was exhausting me just as I'd suspected, but without the late night studying and over-consumption of alcohol I'd presumed came with it. I hoped that Matt would get a little more sleep as I was lying in bed. I'd noticed that the circles were disappearing from under his eye, but it truly made me wonder how much sleep he really had lost if a few hours napping couldn't solve his problem.

Hopefully we'd have figured out a way to override the system sooner or later and that'd resolve his anxieties.

When I was woken up by the rain the following morning, I sighed and ran a hand through my blonde locks, desperate for a shower. From that moment, my schedule turned hectic and I had barely an ounce of free time until the weekend. I had my practical that morning and then an important lecture on Friday, both of which required me to actually do some home study and write a few pages on what we'd learned in the lecture. I also had work at the Cavern both nights, so I was out late and up early the next day.

In turn, I began to develop my own dark circles, but I was much more worried about it than Matt appeared, peering in the mirror every morning and trying to smooth out my skin. I'd wrongly assumed that adulthood granted blemish-free skin but hadn't accounted for sleepless nights and so much _work_. How stupid of me.

I say that I didn't have any free time; this is a partial lie. Sure, I had work every evening, but it wasn't too strenuous. These two nights Matt had got a band to come in and play, so people were more focussed on listening to the music instead of arranging entertainment. It was slightly busier than the other night, but many more people after the band finished up at roughly nine o'clock. I'd remembered to bring my book this time around so I was free to delve into it when there was a break in the crowd.

Matt wasn't there on the Thursday night, so Paul took charge of the place. He appeared over-friendly to me, although I wondered whether that was simply because I already knew of his suspicions. Maybe I wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary if I wasn't aware, but I did catch him glancing warily my way a few times. I put on my sunniest smile, hoping that I seemed as innocent as possible. With Matt back at home-or wherever he was-I couldn't be accused of manipulating him, and I could only hope that my behaviour that night would help him understand that I meant no harm at all. If I wasn't so terrified of being led away and used, I would've been amused that he even considered the possibility that I was spying for somebody else. Me? A spy? You've got to be kidding.

He did appear on Friday night, however, towing Dan along with him, but I hardly saw either of them. Once I caught sight of them disappearing through the door to the rooms out back, only to return merely five minutes later. I barely got to talk to Matt, and didn't even attempt to converse with Dan after Wednesday. The band playing that night was more popular than the kids from the night before, a little more mature and sure of their sound. It was the sort of music that I enjoyed listening to but didn't know too well, and I found myself bobbing my head in time with it for much of the evening. Matt was busy darting in and out the whole of the time, apparently restocking the back rooms. I wasn't sure why he would choose to do this on a busy Friday evening instead of the next day, but figured that there must be some sort of reason for it.

Then again, it could just be Matt acting impulsive, as I'd gathered he enjoyed to do. Although I indulged myself in a little impulsive behaviour every once in a while, I'd learned the hard way that more often than not, it ended up badly for me. I preferred to stick to carefully thought through strategies, but then everyone was different.

Despite how tired I was when I made it to bed that night, I slept fitfully. With the slightest noise I'd be woken up, and when the rain began again at roughly 3am, I gave up all hope of getting any sleep at all, instead trying to look at my notes in a new light. That light being the insanity of the sleep-deprived, something which I hoped wouldn't ever affect the quality of my papers.

As you probably suspected, I didn't get very far with it, although I'll blame my bleary mind for the frequent daydreaming that occurred. If I can't dream in sleep, I should be allowed to dream up ridiculous fantasies when I had a spare moment, right? Besides, it wasn't like Matt would mind, with the way he'd been acting towards me.

Reaching into one of my suitcases, I found something that I'd conveniently forgotten to unpack. A few years previous I'd taken to writing in a journal every so often, just to let my feelings out about things. I'd gradually drifted away from it, especially when one of my school friends found out and claimed it to be far too girly. However, I felt like doing a bit of writing that morning, and where better than what was essentially a diary? Feeling ridiculously like a teenage girl, I cracked open the journal.

I was immediately assaulted by the sight of my own handwriting, pages and pages of words scrawled out in moments that were particularly emotional. I flicked through a few of the past entries and had to hide my laughter, some of the old entries far too petty and ridiculous to even be considered serious. There was something about somebody nicking my rubber, something about getting my first detention for not handing in homework, and a whole page of ranting about my sister. Looking back at it now, I felt the pangs of homesickness grasp me firmly and, for the first time, wished that I was back home.

I had prepared myself for the page that was coming, although I don't think I prepared myself enough. One of the other reasons that I discarded the journal was that it always fell open on the same pages, and unfortunately for me, I couldn't ever make it through this page without tears. It was crudely written, and there were blotches on the page where my pen had spontaneously exploded or run out of ink. However, I remembered writing it as clear as day. I remembered how I felt when I was writing it, how I looked when I was writing it, where and when and why I was when I was writing it, and that's what always came flooded back.

Of course, once I'd started reading it, I couldn't stop. Maybe it was in my nature to try and finish everything, or maybe I felt like it was an injustice not to finish it, simply out of respect. Either way, as soon as I read the first line and felt my heart sink, I knew I would have to man up and continue. Let me give you a brief recap of the story, because the quality of the writing is so atrocious that I'd be embarrassed to show it to you:

My father had just passed away. He'd struggled with lung cancer for several years after smoking heavily before my sister was born, and when I was fourteen, it had caught up with him. It was probably good for him that everything happened so quickly, and it didn't take me long to realise that, but when loved ones are taken from us, we immediately become selfish. I remember crying my eyes out because I would never get to play with my father again, never get homework help or life advice from my father again, but not once did I consider the fact that my sister wouldn't have a father figure to look up to, or that my mother wouldn't have somebody to hold her through the night. Only when I'd recovered from my own grief did I begin to extend my pity to those suffering around me.

I'd written the entry the day after he'd actually passed, simply because I couldn't drag myself away from the hospital room for the first twenty four hours. Even after they'd taken him away, I remained slumped in the seat beside his bed, imagining that he was there and that I was grasping his hand. In fact, I probably wouldn't have left for at least a week if one of the nurses hadn't forced me to get out so that they could use the room for somebody else.

That's one of my most vivid memories of the whole experience. If I'm being totally honest, I can't remember my father's dying words. I can't remember what he last did or felt or what the week before had been like. I couldn't remember the last thing I'd said to him without the journal entry to prompt me. However, I distinctly remember the nurse telling me to clear off. I knew her well, as she'd helped my father whilst he was in the hospital and she chatted to me every time we visited. She was always friendly and polite, so I was willing to do what she asked me to. When she told me that they were required to vacate the room for a new patient, I broke down into floods of tears. It shocked me that somebody else would be here so soon. My father had only died in that same bed a few hours ago, bathed in the same dim sunlight with the same fake flowers on the bedside table and the same hospital gown resting on his frail skin. And they arrived so quickly, too! Almost as if there was an endless queue of people waiting for my father to kick the bucket just so that they could have their own hospital bed and they could die in this poky little room too.

At least he didn't die alone. That's one comfort I allowed myself.

I sat there, wrapped in my duvet with tears streaking down my cheeks until my alarm clock went off, simply staring out of the window and allowing the misery of the weather to seep into my own sadness. I slammed my hand down on the alarm as soon as it went off, the buzzing sound far too annoying for so early on a Saturday morning when I hadn't slept and was light-headed from crying.

When I heard footsteps padding through the flat, I cursed. _Get yourself together, Dominic._ I crawled out of the bed, shrugging on my dressing gown and tiptoeing into the bathroom. I rinsed away any trace of tear tracks from my face, planning to pass off the slight puffiness of my eyes as lack of sleep. It wasn't entirely a lie. As I crept out of the bathroom, however, I glanced down the hallway. Luke was stood in the middle of the lounge, staring out of the window and peering down at the street.

My brow furrowed as I watched him for at least five minutes. Not once did he move a muscle, and I don't even think he blinked. I could just about see the miniscule movements of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled, but other than that, there was no sign that he was even alive. Curious, I padded into my own room and pressed myself up against the window until it fogged up from my breath.

There was nobody out there. The street was clear, which wasn't surprising given the hour. Although I could barely see through the drizzle, it was clear that nobody was around. Backtracking, I could see that Luke was still gazing into the nothingness. It seemed a strange thing to do, that was for sure, but he'd only just convinced us that he was a normal human being. Did Chris and Tom know about his early morning habits?

I shook my head, appalled at my own behaviour. No wonder Paul and Morgan thought I was spying on them! I just couldn't keep my nose out of other people's business, could I? However, with one last look out the window, my eyes settled on what Luke was staring at.

Matt's curtains were wide open. From my bedroom, I could see right into his window. He was pacing the room shirtless, a green hat wedged tightly on top of his head, and his arms were flying about all over the place. I presumed that he was arguing with somebody, as he continuously paused to say something and then continued roaming his room aimlessly. Who was he talking to? What were they arguing about?

There was a moment when he glanced out of his window and I ducked my head, but when I returned to the window, I could just see him grinning at me through his own, bemused. I didn't want him to notice me and draw attention to the fact that I could see him, as Luke's peculiar actions had me on edge yet again. I chanced a wave at Matt and then jabbed my thumb in the direction of the lounge. He took a second to catch on, but I could see the exact moment the fury hit. He kept his temper well, but you could see in the way that his eyebrows drew towards each other, his eyes as hard as flint and his lips pressed tightly together that he definitely wasn't happy. He drew his curtains closed roughly and disappeared from sight.

I jumped back into bed, hearing footsteps in the hallway, and slowly closed the bedroom door with my toe. It sounded like Luke paused outside my bedroom door, as if he was going to come in and greet me, but thought better of it and returned to his own room. I let out a relieved sigh and pulled my phone from my desk, only remembering after I'd composed the text that I didn't actually have Matt's number. Did he even have a phone? It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't. And he'd said that all the lines were monitored, so I presumed that the rule also extended to emails and texts too. Either that or the government really needed to get with the times.

I waited for a few hours until it seemed like a suitable time to be turning up at somebody's house. When I knocked on Matt's door at nine o'clock, wrapped in two scarves and a winter coat, the door was opened as soon as my hand left the knocker.

"Do you fancy going for a walk?" he asked me hastily, shutting the door behind him. I must've pulled a face because he then added, "If you don't, I can probably find a place for us to go."

"No, no, walking is fine, I was just thinking about the weather," I told him. "Aren't you cold?" He was dressed in a thin long-sleeved shirt like the ones I'd seen him sporting around the club and inside his own house, but it seemed insane that he could wear so little on a day like this. The wind whipped straight through me and I was chilled to the bone.

"Nah, I'm fine, Dom." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and began walking swiftly down the street. I raced to keep up with him, trying to match the speeds of our legs.

"Why are you in such a rush? Aren't walks supposed to be leisurely?"

"Yeah, I'll slow down in a minute. I just want to get as far away from the house as possible. You called at exactly the right time actually, because I was just about to head out anyway. Now I have somebody to stop me from venting to random strangers in the streets and getting mixed up in all sorts of trouble. Not that I've done that before, but it's the sort of thing I'll probably find myself doing one day. You seem sensible; you can stop me from doing something stupid." All of this was blurted out at lightning speed and I found him clinging onto my coat, his fingers curled simply around the material. I didn't mind him being there, but it seemed odd that he would choose the material instead of a warm, human hand.

Oh, well.

As soon as we were a few blocks away from his house, Matt slowed down noticeably. I caught my breath and began to look around, not having ventured into this part of the city before now.

"So, how've you been? We haven't spoken much," he said, turning towards me.

"Busy," I admitted. "Had a bit of studying to do already so I've been trying to get ahead so I won't lose time later on, you know what I mean?" He nodded. "But we learned about our main practical for this term and I had to write a little essay on what I'd learned so far, blah blah blah."

"By 'little essay', what exactly do you mean?"

"We had a word limit of a thousand words. That might've been the most difficult bit for me, actually, because I struggle to get in everything I want to say with such a small amount of space." He hummed in response, directing me down a road when I made to turn in the opposite direction. A patch of land appeared beside us and I felt my lips part slightly as I gazed around happily. It wasn't as well tended as the green behind the library, but it looked homely and more as I'd expected Exeter to be. In the middle of the field there was a small pond and a few ducks were swimming around among floating slices of bread. "I didn't know this existed!" Matt shrugged.

"A lot of people never find it. Usually in towns they tell you to go and visit the park, but here they pretty much encourage you not to. They don't like the open space because it's difficult to hide a security camera in the middle of a patch of grass." I chuckled at him as he led me towards a bench beside the pond. I wiped away as much of the water pooling on the slats as possible with my sleeve, perching myself on the edge of the bench and leaning forwards to rest my elbows on my knees.

"I love to come here," Matt murmured. "It's so nice and peaceful. Reminds me of home."

"Where is home?" I inquired, having never asked before.

"Teignmouth. It's about half an hour from here, a little coastal village. I always used to hate it as a kid because it was just so boring, but I guess I never thought that coming to Exeter would mean I was trapped here. Even just a few years ago we came here on our shopping trips and I never suspected a thing. Nobody did, I guess. Just like everybody else that passes through here."

"I did. I've been really on edge from the moment that I arrived here." He frowned at me, eyes searching my face.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I felt a little ill after crossing the border, almost as if my body was telling me that it was the wrong thing to do. And then when I was walking around I just felt that the town was sort of...well, dead. Even though I could see people around and all these advertisements for events and what have you, I just couldn't find any life in the place." Matthew was watching me intently as I spoke, and I grew more nervous as I finished speaking.

"That's really strange. I've never heard that from anybody before. Even the locals can't sense that something is off, despite knowing that there's something wrong. We all know it here, but we also know that we would never be able to tell if we didn't live here. It's why the students never guess anything. And that's also why we often can't get students to help us, because they simply don't believe we're speaking the truth."

"Well, I definitely do. I knew there was something wrong with that border the moment I arrived here, but I guess I just didn't think anything of it. It didn't really mean anything to me. "

"You know what," he mused, rubbing the side of his nose, "I think we're going to have to explore that a little more. Maybe, when we're done here, do you want to go down to the border and check it out for a bit? Just to see what it feels like to you?"

I shrugged.

"I'm up for anything, really."

We sat in silence then, watching the ducks paddling around in the murky water, and I wished I had some bread to feed to them. I noticed Matt jiggling around beside me, rubbing his hands down his arms, and pretended not to notice him. However, after five minutes I was feeling sorry for him, and I began to take my coat off.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, and I bit back a snicker.

"I'm giving you my coat. You look like your nose is going to drop off."

"No, no, I don't want your coat. You'll freeze without that, Dom." He held his hands up, pushing the coat away when I tried to force it upon him.

"Seriously, Matt." I reached out and grabbed one of his hands, wincing and rubbing it between my fingers. "You're absolutely freezing. At least take one of my scarves. I don't really need two." He still protested and I scowled at him. "Listen, I'm the older one here, so you have to do as I say."

"I'm the one who runs his own club, so I think _you _should listen to _me,_" he insisted playfully.

"C'mon, Matt. At least share it with me?" I offered, opening up the coat. I could see the hope for it shining in his eyes and gestured to him to move up closer to me. He shuffled up beside me and I wrapped the side of the coat around him. It didn't quite close with Matt wrapped inside it as well, but it was enough to keep the warmth in both of us. With my coat wrapped around him, I was technically cuddling him, as I had my arm wrapped around his torso. He buried his face in my shoulder and I shuddered as his cold face touched an exposed bit of skin.

"You smell weird, Dom," he mumbled into my skin.

"Cheers," I muttered, pulling the coat tighter around us. He snuffled laughter against my skin and twisted his fingers in my jumper.

"This is nice."

"Mhm."

I lost track of how long we sat there. Was it a whole hour? It could even have been more. I don't know, and to be honest, I don't really care. I wouldn't even have minded if Matt had fallen asleep on my shoulder during such a long period of silence, but it was comfortable, the feeling of another person in my arms the most soothing thing I could imagine. My longing for human company had finally been satiated, and as Matthew buried his face deeper into the gap between my shoulder and my neck, his breath dancing on my skin and making me jump, there wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be.


	11. Chapter 11

Of course, we couldn't stay like that forever. Although it felt like a lifetime, not much had changed around us when Matt decided that he was warm enough. He pulled himself out of my coat and I worked to force the frown off my face, declining my offer of running back to the flat to get him one of my spares.

We set off again in the hopes of finding out something new about the borders.

"We're going to have to do this carefully," Matt muttered, plotting as we walked along. "I'm not sure how the borders work but I have a feeling that they'll see if we keep trying to get out, so I'd be careful about it if I were you. Obviously you can come and go as you please but they might see if I keep bouncing back. And, of course, the cameras won't like it."

"We could just say that you and I made friends. They can't avoid that, and it's probably happened before, right?" I wondered, unsure of how they would cover up the fact that the locals couldn't get out to the students when the evidence was right there in front of them.

"That's true, but they'll definitely get suspicious if we keep trying to get out. They obviously don't like us lot trying to escape, no matter how futile it might be. I tried several times after I moved here and somebody came to drag me back home." I imagined Matt kicking and struggling against a police officer as he was returned home, tears of rage streaking down his face as he was forced to promise he wouldn't tell anybody about this.

It wasn't too far a trek to the edges of the town, Exeter not being a particularly large, but I welcomed the time I got alone with Matt. I considered asking him what he thought he was playing at the other night, desperate for some answers-and maybe hoping for some sort of confession-but I didn't want to disturb the peace.

Which, if you haven't yet grasped my lingo, meant that I was too cowardly to ask him just in case things went wrong.

We chattered about small things as we ambled through the town. Matt asked me how I was finding my course and I gave him a few more details on the practical, and we discussed the possibility of the town survey that Sophie had suggested we do. Matt didn't tell me where he'd been the past few days, nor did he tell me what the argument was about this morning. However, he did have one question.

"Who was that guy watching me this morning? From your flat?"

"Oh, that's Luke," I told him. "He's really bizarre."

"You're telling me that. I could probably report him for peering into my window from his house. It doesn't matter if you can see in; it's an illegal offence!" I hid my grin, knowing Matt didn't care what was illegal or not just as long as he didn't suffer the repercussions. "Do you have any idea what he was doing?"

"Unfortunately not. He was just sort of standing there for at least five minutes. I'm not sure how long he was watching you in particular but it took me a while to notice what he was staring at." He rubbed his eyes and his forehead creased with thought.

"You said he was the one you were wary of, right?"

"Yeah. He'd been acting odd from the start but he loosened up a little the other day. We even had a nice chat about Queen, but if he's doing anything out of the ordinary, I don't think Tom and Chris have noticed. Either that or they're not telling me of their suspicions."

He was silent for a moment, pondering. I watched his face as he thought things through and wondered what he was thinking to himself. It was amusing to watch his eyebrows jump up and down like they did when he was speaking, obviously creating an inner monologue for himself. After a while, he simply shook his head.

We reached the outer edges of the city and I could feel myself shaking from something other than the cold. I could hear a soft thrumming noise coming from nearby and remembered that I'd been driving and listening to music when I first arrived here. I began to doubt myself, wondering if I had really felt something or whether I was just imagining something, not used to travelling such long journeys by myself. Even the fact that I'd sensed how bleak the city was when I'd arrived couldn't convince me that I was telling the truth, and my natural paranoia fuelled the fire. I started composing apologies to Matt in my mind and picked at the skin on my hands nervously.

Matt paused when we reached the end of a road and I raised an eyebrow at him, glancing around. There were a few houses on the road and I felt bad for the residents, unable to imagine being able to see the outside world without touching it. There was a security camera on the side of one of the houses and Matt pulled out his map from his pocket, tilting it so that the camera couldn't see.

I could've sworn I heard him say, "It'll only be a few years before they go full 1984," but I couldn't be too sure, as I had just spotted another two security cameras. Obviously this was a very important part of the city to monitor and protect from outsiders, so there would be heavy security around here. I bit my lip, trying to think of an idea, and was reminded of one of the activities I'd developed an interest in when I was a child.

I walked over to the low wall that ran along the front of somebody's garden and peered behind it, shaking my head.

"It's not here, Matt," I called. "We must've got the wrong place." He peered at me curiously, confusion marking itself on his face. I walked back towards him, putting my hand in his pocket and drawing out the map, pointing at it. "It says here that the geocache clue would be here and that'd tell us where to find the film container, but I can't see it anywhere." Understanding lit his face, and I saw a smile begin to flicker across his lips before he remembered we were supposed to be disappointed.

"Let me come and have a look." I led him back to the spot I'd been searching, trying my best to act natural, and gestured to the empty pavement. "Are you sure it's not further on? It might be further on." I shrugged, allowing him to go forwards, and he pushed past me, stalking confidently down the road.

I wasn't entirely sure what I was expecting. Maybe I was thinking of some semi-permeable barrier that he would bounce off, pulling backwards into the street on his bum. I hadn't considered the option too much, content with it remaining a mystery until Matt and The Resistance figured something out, but it certainly wasn't this.

I watched as he paused in the middle of the road and licked my cold lips as I waited for him to continue. He proceeded to move forwards again but stopped immediately. He physically couldn't move any further. However, instead of the invisible wall I'd imagined the boundaries to be, it was more like Matt was trying to wade through a massive bowl of caramel and not getting any further with it. I rushed up to him, wanting to watch from the side, and he sighed at me.

"Dom, it's frustrating enough that I can't do it myself without you laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing at you, I'm just curious," I replied. "Go on." He rolled his eyes and tried to step forwards, his foot never landing until he moved it backwards. "That's amazing," I found myself saying, struck dumb by the fact that he just couldn't proceed any further. "Does it go up and down as well? I don't suppose you've tried drilling yourself out." He snorted.

"We attempted to use one of the remote control helicopters to see if it goes up but then remembered that the helicopter doesn't count as a citizen of Exeter," he whispered, " so of course it could pass through. And I think digging would be a little conspicuous, don't you? By the time you'd manage to crack the surface, the police would be upon you. It's a recipe for disaster."

I frowned, crouching down and peering at the floor underneath his foot as I tried to think of a way of testing the height of the barriers. The barrier seemed to rise seamlessly from the ground, and there was no way of physically seeing it at all. I rose, sticking my arm out past Matt's foot and waggling it around in the air.

"Nothing," I muttered, turning to see Matt with his eyes focussed on my hand, jaw set, and pulled my hand back.

"No, no, don't mind me. Go through, I want to see it." He urged me on, pressing his hand against my back until I stumbled close to the border. I took a deep breath, hoping I wouldn't be rejected now, and stepped over the invisible line. I felt a shudder ripple through me as I crossed through, squeezing my eyes shut until my foot hit the floor and I safely pulled through. I spun around, both feet planted firmly on the ground, and face Matt, holding my hands out. I could probably still reach through and touch him, but he couldn't reach through to me. I saw him pressing his hands against the barrier and slammed against it once but, upon realising it was futile, shook his head and let his hands fall limp by his sides.

After a moment of silence, when I realised how lucky I was that I was able to get out, he called, "Come back, now. I want to watch you again." I could feel his eyes on me as I stepped over, my body shaking, tingles spreading right through every nerve. It wasn't painful or even unpleasant, but it was definitely an uncomfortable feeling. It was like gas penetrating through every pore at the same time, as if pumping me up for something, and I was a little too buoyant for comfort. Matthew's eyes were wide when I landed on the other side and he shook his head slowly at me. "That's so strange. When I've seen people pass through the borders before, they haven't reacted to it at all. You're really quite special, Dominic."

I felt my cheeks flush but was glad for the heat, the wind biting at my cheeks and threatening to slice off my fingers.

"I guess this means we can progress with our research, right?" I asked hopefully, but when Matt didn't answer me, I took it as a bad sign.

"It just means we have more questions," he said, finally. "Why you? What is it that makes you so unique? This hasn't helped us figure out what could possibly be causing it at all. All we know now is that you can feel something when others can't, which could be dangerous. I doubt they'd like that much. Maybe they'll have to take you apart to find out what's wrong with you." The solemnity of his tone alarmed me, and I turned towards him with wide eyes, my breath caught in my lungs. I watched his lips twitch for a few brief moments before he slapped his legs, creased with laughter.

"Don't say stuff like that! You scared me, Matt." He giggled at me, covering his lower face with cupped hands, and I scowled at him. Of course, this only made him laugh harder, and I strode down the street without him. I could hear him chasing after me, shoes slapping against the pavement and echoing around the deserted street, little legs having to run to catch up with me.

"Dom, wait!" he yelled. I held back a smile, faking my misery as I sped up. "Dom, stop walking, please. Dommie!" It was hard to resist laughing at Matt's laughing, and I could feel it bubbling up behind my lips. My shoulders shook as I tried to let it loose as quietly as possible. "Are you crying?" The genuine shock in his tone made his horror worse and I had my mouth wide open as I shook with uncontrollable laughter.

He finally caught up to me, skinny arms snaking around my waist, the two of us nearly toppling over when he squeezed me.

"Dom, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry, Dom, I promise," he blurted, and I wriggled around in his embrace to face him and reveal my state. In stitches, I tried to convince him that I wasn't really upset and I was just playing with him, and I saw his lips turn down. "That was a dirty trick."

"I know," I apologised. "I'm sorry, Matt."

"I think you're going to have to make it up to me." Glittering aqua eyes met my own and I was acutely aware of his arms still around my waist.

"Oh?"

"'Oh' indeed."

"And how do you think I should go about that?"

"It's your choice. I'm up for a surprise." He beamed at me, endearing wonky tooth and all, and a million fantasies ran through my head. Once they'd wormed their way into my brain, I couldn't shake them out, and I could feel my eyes glazing over as I lost myself in stories with a much better ending than this one. "Dom, you're going cross-eyed." I blinked, returning to the present day, pleased to find the little Bellamy still clinging to me.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and find out, then." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, displeased with my behaviour, and unwound his arms from my torso. My body noticed the loss of warmth immediately and I hugged my coat tighter to my chest.

"Oh. So it's that way." He folded his arms across his chest, puffing himself up a little, but I could see the corners of his lips turning up.

We headed back to the main town, seeking warmth, and I led Matt to that cafe I'd visited on my first day here, realising that I'd been in the city for just over a week. The woman at the counter, who I now knew was called Sarah, greeted me again and it was nice to see a familiar face that I wasn't suspicious of in some way or another. I knew I wouldn't able to live like this for too long before it would begin to drive me mad.

I ordered the soup again, trying chicken this time, to warm my frozen body and Matt followed me, not knowing what to pick. I was surprised that he hadn't ever stumbled upon the place in the whole time he'd lived here, since he seemed to like exploring the city to its limits, but perhaps it hadn't appealed to him at first glance. It may have looked a little pink and frilly from the outside, like a huge jamjar, but it really was adorable inside, and he was beginning to see its charms.

And if the friendliness of Sarah and her colleagues wasn't enough to convince him, the food would certainly have made a good impact. He wolfed it down before I was even halfway through mine, my tongue burning when the heat hit it full on. He rested his spoon in the empty bowl, leaning back against the chair.

"It's nearly a week since I took you to that Italian place," he said thoughtfully, "which means we can go there again soon." I refused to react to his use of 'we', calculating that this was the third time we'd had dinner together. It seemed to strange to think that I'd had more dinner dates in this past week than I'd had before in my entire life, and they weren't even what I'd call dates. At least, not officially.

I don't know, maybe I'd consider them that. The last one had been a little on the awkward side. And the first one, actually. And this one would turn out to be too, if we were following a pattern.

Oh, stuff it all! I might as well get things over and done with.

I took a deep breath, running over what I was going to say in my head to make sure that I didn't spit out complete gibberish when I was trying to be eloquent.

"Matthew," I began, and he glanced up at me from under his eyelashes, distracted from picking at his nails, "I need to ask you something." He raised one perfectly formed eyebrow at me, a message to tell me to go on, but I found myself frozen. My mouth was dry and there weren't so many butterflies in my stomach as hurricanes. "About the other day...what exactly did you mean?" His eyes narrowed slightly, the light tricking me into believing the hue of his irises was darker than usual.

"What about the other day? I said a lot the other day," he told me cryptically, not allowing me to break eye contact even if I'd wanted to.

"But was everything you said true?"

"Probably not. I lie about lots of silly things. You'd have to give me something particular if you want to know that badly." I gave a heavy sigh.

"Matthew, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Actually, I don't believe I do." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, hands cupping his chin, and I found myself back in the restaurant again, finally admitting to myself that I was attracted to him.

"Matthew, stop playing with me. I have no idea what you're thinking, but you need to make some decisions. I-" I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking everything out so that I could focus on a sensible answer without messing everything up. If I proceeded with this, our friendship could be on the line and I'd lose everything that this past week had meant to me. "I just want to know why you keep playing around with me."

"I didn't think I was," he murmured, his voice soft. "I thought we were friends."

"We _are_ friends!" When he didn't answer, I panicked. "I thought we were friends. We're friends, right?"

"Well, sure. Why would I be here with you otherwise?" I shrugged.

"Business meeting?" I suggested. "That's why you invited me out the first time." And asked me what my favourite food was only to take me to his favourite restaurant. It was Matthew in a nutshell.

"Whatever, Dom. Cut to the chase."

"No, Matt, I'm taking this slowly. I want to wrap my head around everything for once and for all. What's happening between us?" He pulled his head up from where it was resting until his eyes were level with mine, and I watched as he scrutinised me, keeping my face void of expression. Sarah came over in the middle of things to collect our bowls, but otherwise the world continued to go past without as. Our little bubble remained intact as Matthew studied me intently and I was fine with letting everybody else get on with their lives. I could feel my heart pounding, threatening to break out of my ribcage, and knew that it could either be the best or worst thing I'd ever done in my life.

With somebody else, I probably wouldn't be so terrified. Somebody else would've given me a simple answer by now, a 'Yes' or a 'No'. I would either have left this cafe beaming or dejected, not even more perplexed than usual, which was how I anticipated myself leaving here.

Paying for our meals was an automatic movement, and I barely noticed Sarah's presence, even when I was looking straight at her. My skin tingled under Matthew's gaze and as I pulled my chair back, pulling my coat from where it was slung over the back and putting it back on, I knew he hadn't stopped watching me for at least five minutes.

"Why do you ask?" he inquired at last, getting up from his own chair and following me to the door.

"Because I need to know. I need to-" I swallowed, collecting my thoughts and wondering how best to progress, "I need to find out whether I'm following the wrong path or not. I'm not going to chase after somebody that's leading me on. That's not what I want from my life."

"You think I'm leading you on?"

"Well, maybe. I don't know. That's what I was asking you."

"And what makes you think I'd tell you if I was."

"Well, nothing. I was just waiting to see if you denied there was something between us." A pause. "Which you didn't." The silence hung between us as we strolled down the street, returning back home absently. I could feel it begin to smother me and wondering how long it was before I choked on the tension. Matthew was deliberately drawing out the time between us, making me wait for his answers, making me long for them, and I couldn't help but hope this wasn't he would be like in a relationship. I couldn't imagine living with somebody so teasing all of the time.

"You're working tonight, aren't you?"

"Matt, stop avoiding the question," I ordered. He ignored me.

"We'll need to organise some time to figure out what's going on with the boundaries. I think we're nearly there, but we've still got a considerable way to go. If we get the others in on it, I bet we'll have an answer sooner-."

"Matt, please."

"-Or later. We're so close, Dom, it's fantastic. I can almost taste the freedom..." I stopped in my tracks and watched as he walked a few steps ahead of me before backtracking. I put my hands on his shoulders and twisted him so that he was forced to look into my eyes.

"Matthew, I deserve an answer," I told him, trying to be assertive to get what I wanted. It was a struggle to keep the trembling out of my voice, so sure that I was going to be rejected.

"What do you expect me to say, Dominic?" The wind rushed past us, picking up speed and ruffling my hair. I was envious of Matt, his ears tucked tightly into his knitted cap.

"I don't know what I expect. I never know what to expect from you, which is why I'm asking. I can usually predict people but you just keep slipping out of my grasp every time I think I'm close. I've had to give in and ask you to tell me directly simply because I can't get anything. You drop hints and then you take them back again. Please," I begged, "please tell me what's going on."

His face was cold, unlike I'd seen it before. The planes of his face seemed to act as armour against my prying questions, his thin lips free of colour, his eyes sunken into the blue-black circles that were beginning to look like permanent bruises on his face. I had no idea what to do anymore, and was at a loss of things to say. If he refused to answer me now, I would just have to assume that he didn't feel the same way and that he'd been messing with me the whole time. I was probably just a conquest to him, somebody else to catch in his web, and then he'd leave me there, wound up in my own affection until I was bound and gagged.

I knew my expression was helpless. All that I could hope was that it instilled some sort of human reaction in him.

His voice was incredibly quiet when he spoke, and I could barely hear him over the wind.

"I'm addicted to you."

I froze, my brain unable to compute such a sentence. It wasn't what I'd been expecting at all, wasn't one or the other or even on the spectrum between the two.

"Pardon?"

"I just-Dominic, I'm sorry. I think you're a really great person and I've completely ruined everything and I'm sorry and oh gosh! I wish I could take back all this messing around with you, I really do." In an unusual bout of ineloquence, he blurted out everything that was on his mind, for once not calculating my response before he revealed himself.

"Matthew, what is this? Are you saying that...you don't want to see me? Because I'm really, _really_ confused and-"

"No!" he interrupted. "That's not it at all. Definitely not. No way. Dom, I just..." He paused, inhaling deeply, and returned his eyes to mine. Could I see the honesty in them? No, I'd be lying if I said that, but I could certainly sense that he was telling the truth. He wasn't a spectacular actor, and his words definitely wrong with truth.

"Matthew," I murmured, voice kept low as we stood in the road outside our respective homes, "do you...do you want..." I swallowed, unable to finish the sentence, not sure what I myself even wanted. The words scrambled in my brain, and I find myself physically unable to choke out the words. Matthew simply looked at me, lips parted slightly, and, turning to go into his house, left me with a,

"Maybe I do."


	12. Chapter 12

I spent that afternoon even more frustrated than I'd ever been, half wishing I'd never met Matthew and half wondering why I hadn't just asked him beforehand. What hell sort of an answer was that supposed to be? Why couldn't he just tell it to me straight instead of mucking around with me? After all, that was what he'd only just been apologising for. The only explanation I could come up with was that his apologies meant nothing, and that certainly shed a new light on him that I wasn't particularly pleased to become aware of. It seems that ignorance really is bliss, but it had taken me far too long to realise it.

After chucking my pillow at the walls of my bedroom several times over, I remembered that I'd be sleeping on it and wouldn't want to be unknowingly inhaling dust. I replaced the pillow with an old rough book that I wasn't too fond of, but Chris came in and asked me what all the racket was. After quickly making up a lie about being stuck on my work, to which he replied that he'd unfortunately never bothered to study Psychology and couldn't help me there, I figured that I could be doing something more productive with my time than venting my anger.

I decided to clean my room, as organising things had always helped me to get my thoughts straight whilst also concentrating on the task at hand. It was already a tip, despite the fact that I'd only lived there for a week, and I first set about organising my stray papers into separate piles on my bed. When I was finished, I had a pile of course related work, a pile of junk and scrap paper, and a pile of research for The Resistance.

I dumped the scrap paper in the bin sat under my desk and took it out to the kitchen to put my waste with the rest from the household. I then took the bin down to the larger bins by the car park, braving the cold to complete the task. However, I hadn't taken into account that I'd first Matt in this very place, and I found myself scowling as I passed the hedge. My eyes flicked up to the security camera planted on the side of the wall and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at it, thinking better of it at the last minute.

I returned to the flat, cleaning my room until it was spick and span, completely free of dust. Tom poked his head in when he returned from the job he'd managed to bag working in a shop in the main city. He gave me an approving thumbs up and added that it was nice to have a woman in the house without actually having a woman, diving out of the doorway when I pelted him with one of my runaway jumpers. Reassuring myself that cleaning wasn't a womanly thing to do, I set about ordering my desk neatly so that I would always know where to find things, satisfying my minor OCD.

I joined the other three for dinner in the kitchen, and the discussion was mainly focussed on jobs. I watched Luke carefully throughout the meal, trying to see if he slipped up at all or whether any hint of who he'd been earlier showed through, but found nothing. As I'd zoned out, I was lucky to notice when Chris asked,

"Dom, you've had your job for a week now. How's it going?" I finished my mouthful and tilted my head.

"It's going pretty well, thanks. I've had a little experience of every day I'll be working now, so I know roughly what to expect," I answered, "and Matt was late on Wednesday so, y'know, I had to actually have a go at keeping the place in order for a while."

"I bet you enjoyed that, Dom," Tom chortled, "trying to keep all those rowdy kids under control."

"They're not all that bad. They're just wary of me, I think, and they're little trouble-makers. Once you know how they work, you can get on their good side."

"Where do you work, Dom?" Luke inquired quietly, and I told him. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"It's a really cool place," Chris told him. "They have loads of live music and a bar and stuff. And Matt, Dom's boss, seems like a really great guy. How is he, by the way?"

_Don't react, don't react_, I told myself, although I was beginning to calm down a little. My frustration was slowly dissipating to reveal simple confusion.

"He's alright," I replied. "Nothing new is going on, you know? So he's as good as ever." Chris and Tom shared a glance with each other, and then resumed looking at me. "What? What was that?" The pair shook their heads, suddenly too busy with food to bother answering me, and I sighed heavily to myself. It looked like I wouldn't ever get any answers from anybody.

"Oh, hey, Dom, I picked up a paper today," Tom began, yanking a battered newspaper from the coffee table and passing it to me. "Check out page seven." I opened it up and scanned the various boxes on the page, ignoring the advertisements and trying to find what he was searching for. I felt my heart leap into my throat as my eyes finally found the title he was talking about. 'Government looking for a young man with brightly coloured hair.'

In any other time, it would have been absurd. Only a few years ago, this sort of title would've been ridiculed. Coloured hair? Couldn't they give us any more information? Of course, now that it was against the law of the entire country, people would be outraged. People couldn't imagine how one person could be so insolent as to think they could have coloured hair when clearly it was against the rules for a reason.

Another example of how oppressed our society was. People were so used to being shoved away that they took the leader's words as gospel, not even questioning anything anymore. Whether it was because they had had it drilled into their head and believed it to be right, or whether they knew it was useless trying to fight the system, they wouldn't bother speaking up.

"Isn't that awesome?" Tom breathed.

"It's insane," I spat, worry for Matt choking me up.

"Insane but really, really cool. I wish I could have coloured hair. Whoever it is has got to be exceptionally brave." All I could do was agree.

After dinner, I headed down to the Cavern, wrapped up in my usual gear. I didn't bother bringing a book that night, as the others had decided to have a little look around the club. We ambled down together, the sky growing dark around us despite the fairly early hour. I led them towards the little secluded area, passing through the alleyway to the door hidden in the stairs. Tom shot me a look of approval as we pushed through it into the hall.

Matt and Paul were standing in the middle of the room, chatting to each other, but they paused when we entered and turned towards us. My friends fell silent, the background chatter disappearing as they pushed me forwards.

"Hi, Dom," Matt greeted me with a wave, acting for all the world as if this morning had never happened, and my stomach twisted. "Who's this?" I gestured behind me, pointing at the guys.

"This is Chris, Tom and Luke. They wanted to have a little look around, so I brought them with me. I hope you don't mind."

"No, no, not at all. It's nice to finally put a face to the names. Please, make yourself at home." Chris and Tom whispered to each other as they were led over to the tables that had already been set out by Matt, and I peered at my watch. Five minutes until the club opened. I could hear voices from outside and wondered if it came from people queuing up or just innocent passers-by.

Paul smiled at me when I glanced up at him, and I reminded myself not to be surprised. Of course he would still be acting polite towards me; I wasn't supposed to have heard his plans.

"How are you, Dom?" he wondered walking over to meet me.

"I'm doing pretty good, thanks," I responded. "How about you?"

"Eh, you know how it is. I'm a little tired but otherwise well." I nodded, remembering my recent sleepless nights. "Ready for the evening?" I shrugged.

"Ready as I ever am, right? Who's the band tonight?"

"Some local indie band, as per usual. Can't really remember their names, but they're not actually here to remind me. I hope they turn up before six, otherwise we'll have a lot of unhappy customers." I bit my lip, feeling a sharp pain there as I opened up a cut I didn't know I had. Matt hurried back from the table areas, pulling me out of my current conversation, and I noticed Paul glaring at his back.

"Is that Luke, then? _The_ Luke?" he whispered to me covertly, trying not to look like he was keeping a secret when he so blatantly was.

"Yeah, why?"

"Are you sure it was a good idea bringing him here?" I moved my head back so that I could look at his face properly, lines of worry creasing his skin.

"Matt, he's not working for the government or anything. I'm not entirely sure what's wrong with him, and he's definitely a strange guy, but-"

"You don't know!" he hissed. "Nobody knows whether he's a spy or not. When they tried that last time, they brainwashed a bunch of people, but you were able to tell. He was acting so normal to me, but I know what I saw this morning."

"And I know what _I _saw. I don't necessarily trust him, but it can't cause too much harm bringing him here, right?" As per usual, as soon as the words left my mouth, I realised how wrong I was. I'd seen that newspaper article earlier. One false move and Matt might accidentally pull his hat off, bright red hair on display for all to see. Although most of the people at the Cavern wouldn't have too much of a problem with it-as they seemed to me to be a fairly close-knit community and certainly wouldn't betray another to the government-Luke was certainly one to be suspicious of. _Once again, Dominic, you've possibly ruined everything._

"Hey, guys!" Paul called. "It's five, so I'm gonna open the club, alright?" Matt didn't answer, instead returning my gaze with his eyebrows ever so slightly raised. I looked away, unable to hold the stare for much longer. Paul was standing by the door, handing out little tickets and collecting cash from the visitors. I hung behind the bar, on hand to make hot drinks if anybody fancied something before the bar opened, and Matt disappeared behind the main building.

The evening continued like any other of my working days. By six o'clock there was a queue for the bar, including Chris and Tom, and I was serving drinks for twenty minutes straight before I got a break. Matt hurried towards me to inform me that the band still hadn't arrived, and he'd have to take emergency action if they weren't here by seven. I wondered briefly what 'emergency action' entailed, but was interrupted by more people asking for drinks.

The endless routine of pouring drinks into glasses and handing them out with one hand, collecting cash with the other and putting it in the box under the desk was fairly easy to get into. I found myself relaxing behind the counter, but as the clock inched towards seven o'clock, I could feel myself growing nervous. Of course, emergency action wouldn't involve blowing up the club or anything dangerous like that, but it certainly sounded worrying from Matt's tone of voice.

Tom lumbered over to the bar, glass in hand.

"Did you say there was a band tonight?" he asked me, and we both glanced over at the stage which I'd help to set up nearly two hours ago but was currently completely empty.

"Well, there's supposed to be, but, uh..." I trailed off, not entirely sure what Matt's action plan was. Tom leaned on the bar as I served a few more drinks and we both watched the stage, hearing thumping noises coming from behind the curtain at the side. Paul appeared in the middle and I frowned, peering around the room. I was sure he was supposed to be helping me in some way. Sophie also hopped onto the stage sitting behind the drums. I hadn't even realised she could play.

The two of them started up a simple drum and bass tune to get the crowd worked up, and some people began to dance along, others choosing to simply watch them play. Paul had his back to the crowd, facing Sophie as they played together in perfect time. They were fairly good, actually, and even more so if the song that they were performing was their own. I certainly hadn't heard it around before.

A small figure hung in the wings and I could see the neck of a guitar poking out from behind the curtains. One eyebrow began to rise of its own accord as the pieces clicked in my mind, and I knew I was right as soon as the figure took one step onto the stage. A few cheers sounded in the crowd, recognising Matt from their times here previously, and I noticed that many were surprised to see him with an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulders. He strummed it gently, adjusted the microphone, and allowed Paul to introduce them.

I couldn't stand around and watch like everybody else, as I obviously had a job to do, but when most of the people were watching the performance, I was able to lean against the counter and observe the show from my slightly greater height. They played a couple of well-known songs, and a few that I didn't recognise, allowing the crowd to join in drunkenly on the choruses. Paul sang most of the lyrics, but I saw Matt murmuring into his own microphone once or twice.

My head bobbed along to the music absentmindedly and I couldn't help it when it began to fade into background music, too lost in my thoughts and actions to properly concentrate on what was being played. All I was aware of was that it sounded good and the crowd were enjoying it. I guessed that was what 'emergency action' was, and I wondered if they'd ever had to spring it upon the crowd before.

Paul was constantly talking to the crowd between songs, introducing the lesser known tracks and apologising when somebody asked about the other band who were supposed to be playing that night. I did notice, however, that nobody left. Even those that had only come to see these other guys play remained absorbed in the current performance.

I dimly recognised a Rage Against the Machine song being played and my lips quirked as I watched Matt, who had briefly swapped his acoustic for an electric and was having a whale of the time in the corner of the stage. I noticed that Paul was struggling slightly to rap at the same time as playing the bass, but he did a fairly good job at it, and that was worth commending. I was simply amazed that they actually had the bravery to play such a song like that, and wondered what Luke thought of it.

Thinking of Luke, I glanced around the room, trying to pick out my group of friends from the hoardes of people crammed in the room. I couldn't see him anywhere, and I began to get a little worried. Chris and Tom were standing at the front, unaware of the situation, so I took it into my own hands. I weaved through the crowd, not properly paying attention when Paul announced that the next song was written by Matt, desperately trying to find him before it was too late. I wouldn't be able to take it if I was responsible for something disastrous.

I pushed through the crowd, searching for the big guy and hoping he would stand out among the other people. I was nearing the door when I remembered that the only place he wasn't allowed to go was in the hallway behind the counter. I raced back, shoving people out of the way as I hurried towards the door. The air was cool in the hallway and a shock to the system after being immersed in the sweaty crowd. I pushed my fringe out of my eyes and observed the hallway. Both doors were shut tight and there was nobody at the end of it. I peered in both rooms, but there was nobody in either. Nothing looked particularly out of place at all, and I shook my head. I must've been panicking over nothing, as per usual.

I returned to my place behind the bar, a few disgruntled crowd members waiting impatiently for a drink. After serving them, I continued to watch the performance. They only played one more song after I had returned, and exited the stage to loud cheers and applause. I clapped along with everybody else, a wide smile creeping across my face as I watched Matt hop off the stage and head towards me.

He arrived a little breathless, a few dark patches on the back of his shirt. I couldn't imagine how warm he must've been underneath that hat, but he smelled slightly musky and I could feel a smirk threatening to reveal itself.

"What did you think?" he asked me.

"You were amazing," I answered honestly, astounded at their performance skills. "You didn't tell me you were that good!"

"Well, I'm not _that_ good, but I know enough to play some decent stuff, you know what I mean?" I couldn't say I did, but I nodded anyway. "Did you, uh..." He scratched his head and glanced away. "...like my song?" He snuffled a laugh and I felt my stomach drop to my feet. I hadn't heard it. In the time it took me to search for Luke and then wander out back to check whether everything was going okay, I hadn't heard much of the song. I couldn't even remember what it was called.

"Yeah, it was brilliant, yeah." Matt was silent. I washed a few glasses and watched his face. "Matt? Are you okay?"

"You didn't hear it, did you?" he replied, so quietly that I could barely hear him over the din of the room.

"Well, I mean, I heard some of it. I was listening, honestly." He looked at his feet, mumbling to himself.

"Tell me about it, then. Tell me what you heard." Lost for words, I hung my head in shame, my cheeks burning. How could I reveal to him that I hadn't heard any of it at all? I'd wanted to, of course, and was miserable that I hadn't been able to, but I'd now gotten myself into a right pickle with the whole situation and there wasn't anything I could do.

"Matt, I, er-listen, I'm so sorry. I'm really, truly sorry, but I barely heard any of it."

"Then why lie to me?" He tilted my chin up so that I was looking right into his eyes.

"I didn't want to upset you. You seemed so excited about it, and the small snippets I did hear were great, honestly, but I was busy at that moment and I just...I'm so sorry, Matthew. Really, I am." I swallowed nervously, unable to look away from him but hoping to avoid eye contact. I wasn't sure why I was apologising to him when he still hadn't apologised for messing up my head earlier, but the fact that his finger was still holding my chin up distracted me from that thought.

"What were you doing, then?"

"I was looking for Luke. I couldn't find him anywhere, and I was thinking about what you said earlier and I just got paranoid, I guess." Matt's eyes flashed with alarm but I was quick to correct myself. "There's was nothing out of the ordinary, don't worry about it. I just thought that...well, I don't know what I thought. I guess something just felt odd." Matt's eyes lit up and he grabbed my arm, his finger finally falling from under my chin.

"You felt odd? Dom, that could be important!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, you were shuddering all the time when we passed through the borders earlier and you said that you felt something strange when you first arrived here. Perhaps something's happening and you can feel it in your gut or something."

"Matt, that's ridiculous," I spluttered, shaking my head at him in disbelief and pouring a glass of beer for somebody at the bar.

"It is not!" he retorted adamantly. "It's a completely rational idea, based on conclusive evidence." I snorted.

"Now you're just spewing random words everywhere." He playfully punched my shoulder.

"Am not. You're the one that spews random words everywhere." He put on a girly voice. "'Oh, Matthew, I'm so sorry, I just, y'know, I, erm-, I mean, oh _god_-"

Paroxysms of giggles erupted from his small mouth and he doubled over, my horrified expression too much for him to take.

"I do _not_ speak like that."

"Yes you do! Oh God, you're even speaking posh now! Stop it, stop, I'm about to burst." I hit him on top of his head for good measure, hoping to knock the laughter out of his system until he pointed at my offended face and continued the chuckling. I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

"Seriously, Matt. This is serious business." He wiped the joy from his face impossibly fast, returning to solemn and serious within seconds and watching me intently.

"Well, what do you plan for us to do about it?" he queried.

"How should I know? Did you get anything from our experiment earlier?"

"I can't say that my afternoon was particularly productive, actually. I spent most of the day moping around in my room." I raised my eyebrows, surprised to hear that Matt, who was always full of energy, no matter how exhausted he was, had spent the day in his bedroom. "How about you?"

"My afternoon wasn't too different, actually."

"Huh," was his only reply, and I sighed to myself, noticing out of the corner of my eye that people were beginning to drift away. Paul was standing at the door seeing them out safely.

"Are we going to talk about this morning or not?" I questioned, turning back to look at him.

"What about it?" he folded his arms over his chest and I resisted the urge to stamp my foot on the floor.

"Look, we're just going around in circles. The whole point of me asking you about things this morning was to get an answer. Then you were cryptic with me, then you apologised for being cryptic, then you were cryptic again. Now I'm asking you for an answer and you're refusing again. I'm getting a little sick of it, if I'm being completely honest."

Matthew looked at me steadily.

"You heard what I said, Dominic." The hard 'c' on the end rang in the air.

"But what does it _mean_?" I struggled to keep my voice at a normal volume, pent up frustration leaking into my tone. All I wanted to do was grab hold of him and shake the answer out of him, but I knew that wouldn't go down well.

"How do you expect me to tell you that when I don't even know the answer myself?" I gaped at him.

"You don't...know?" He shook his head. "Well, what do you think it means?" He gravitated closer towards me, looking up from his shorter height and staring directly into my eyes.

"You think I know?" His voice was low, not quite a whisper but almost as if he wasn't really speaking, as if the voice was coming from within him somewhere quite different. "If I knew, I would tell you, but I don't. All I know is that something is there and it absolutely terrifies me. I'm not in control of myself anymore, and this is when I need control the most. I hope you understand."

"Oi, lovebirds!" I heard somebody call, and was about to retort angrily when I saw Chris standing there, hands on his hips. "Either of you seen Luke?"

**50,000! Goal=complete :D**


	13. Chapter 13

13.

I felt my heart leap into my throat.

"Have you not seen him?" I choked out, dimly registering Matt prodding my shoulder but ignoring him. Chris shook his head.

"Not for a few hours, actually. We were just going to head home before Tom gets too drunk, but we can't see him anymore."

"Maybe he already left," I suggested weakly.

"Surely he'd have told us? I'm going to have a little look around, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Matt answered, and Chris left to search. As soon as he was gone, Matt gripped my shirt sleeve and pulled me so that I was facing him again.

"Matt, what are we going to do?" I asked, desperation leaking into my tone.

"He called us lovebirds," he mumbled, eyebrows drawn together quizzically.

"Matt, we've got bigger problems at the moment. I have no idea where Luke is and-"

"Lovebirds. That's so weird. We weren't even doing anything."

"And he could be raiding your stuff right now. Maybe he's curious and wanted to peer around, but we don't know whose side he would be on."

That snapped him into action. His dopey gaze melted into a face as hard as flint. He let go of my shirt and sprinted into the back rooms, kicking open the doors and then standing silently in the doorway when there was nobody there. I shrugged at him and he scowled.

"What the hell does this kid think he's playing at?" Matt spat. "If this is some sort of stupid joke, Luke, you'd better stop now. My club could get taken away if there's an accident here. You're supposed to stay inside for a reason."

A low chuckle sounded from behind us and I whipped around, caught off guard. Luke stood there, leaning against the doorway and watching us. His arms were folded and he looked bigger than ever, watching us from the slightly elevated height. I could feel the hairs rising on the back of my neck and a slight breeze as Matt moved towards me.

"You might as well be blind, the way you were looking for me," Luke drawled. "I don't want your precious files and folders. I'm just observing." I shook my head at him, blonde falling in my eyes.

"What do you want, Luke? Chris and Tom have been looking for you," I told him as forcefully as I could.

"And you think I care? They're just assets, a way to get closer to...well, you, Matthew." Matt blanched, glancing anxiously between us, and I bit my lip. Where was the Matt I knew? That Matt would stand up to Luke, but this man was cowering behind me as if he were afraid of the larger guy. Surely not, right?

"What do you want from him?" Luke gave a hollow laugh and I ground my teeth.

"So protective all of a sudden. What have you got on him, Dominic? What is he doing for you?" He made a move towards us and I took an involuntary step back, arms spread out until I was covering Matt with my body unknowingly.

"Nothing. He's not doing anything for me."

"Are you sure of that? It looks like he's doing something for you to me. Not necessarily anything helpful, as it's come in handy quite often for me, but it's still there." My brow furrowed as I stared him down. "Yes, he's definitely doing something for you, and you're too blind to even notice. Silly Dominic. So oblivious."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I hissed, but he waved my comment away.

"I've had enough of this argument. I'd like to talk to Matthew. Now, if you could just move away." I heard Matt whimper behind me and, while half of me was aching for him to kick into action and give Luke a piece of his mind, part of me was enjoying protecting him. At least, I enjoyed it until it went wrong.

"I don't think that's going to happen." Luke gave a weary sigh and trained his eyes on me.

"Listen, either you move out of the way or I'll force you out of the way. Your choice." He unfolded his arms and held his hands out to me, as if my future was held in his palms. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to Matt, giving him an apologetic smile. His eyes were wide and shining with fear, but he nodded shakily. Slowly, I stepped aside. "Wise choice."

Luke moved forward until he was standing directly opposite Matt. The difference in height was quite large, and I could only imagine how intimidating Luke looked from Matt's perspective. His change in demeanour was quite shocking, although part of me had been expecting it. I knew that he wouldn't be able to come home safely now. Whatever he'd done, there was no going back. These movements weren't drunk antics; this was Luke finally showing us that our suspicions had been right all along. I could only feel like I was too blame, even though there wasn't much else I could've done to prevent this situation from occurring.

Before I saw it coming, Luke had grabbed Matt's arm, his large hand wrapping all the way around Matt's skinny arms, and yanked him into a room. I yelled and rushed after him but the door slammed shut in my face and I heard the click of the lock twisting. Panicked, I pounded on the door with my fists.

"What do you think you're doing?" I yelled. "This wasn't part of the deal!" All pounding was futile, but I kicked and punched the door until my knuckles began to bleed. Unable to continue any longer, I slumped to the floor, cradling my injured fist in my other hand, head resting against the door.

Now that I thought of it, that was probably a better idea. What if Mat had been trying to escape but my pounding stopped him or nearly punched him in the face. And could I hear their conversation from out here? There was a tiny keyhole just above my head that looked like it hadn't been used for decades and I peered through, able to see that Matt was slouched in a wooden desk chair. He looked on edge, despite his relaxed posture, and covered with a dark shadow. His face was pleading.

There were mumbled coming through the door.

"What is this place for?"

"It's a, a c-club. A music club. For people to listen to music."

"Why's it so hidden away?"

"It was the only place I could find."

"What are these rooms back here for?"

"Admin. Keeping track of expenditure and staff."

"Not hiding anything, are we?"

"No." The denial was strongly delivered, and I wondered how much practise Matt had. In fact, it was the only answer he'd said so far that actually sounded like he was sure of himself, despite it being an obvious lie.

"I don't believe you."

"And I don't trust you." Footsteps pacing the room.

"You're intelligent." A pause. "There aren't many like you." Another pause. I held my breath.

"What of it?"

"I could do with somebody like you on my side. You'd be useful."

"And what would I get from it?" A laugh tinted with disbelief.

"Like I'd give you anything! You get the enjoyment of following me."

"Not a chance. I'm fine by myself, thank you very much."

"That's your choice, I guess." Neither said anything for a while after that, and I began to grow anxious. What were they doing? The silence felt suffocating and I wondered if my brain had just shut off, unwilling to hear the answer. "Well, I'll be seeing you, Matthew Bellamy," Luke replied at last. I scrambled up from my seat on the floor and rushed back to the bar, attending to the final remaining customers. Tom and Chris were sat in the corner and they hurried over as soon as they saw me again.

"Hey, Dom, I don't suppose you saw Luke at all, then?" Chris inquired. I shook my head without pausing, hurriedly trying to think of an excuse. Matt appeared then at my shoulder and I glanced behind, checking to see if Luke followed him out. He didn't. Matt's didn't appear outwardly anxious, but his hand gripped the hem of my shirt under the cover of the bar.

"I definitely think you guys should check at home and see if he went back," I replied.

"Seems like a good idea to me. When will you be back, Dom?"

"I'm not sure. You'll probably be asleep before I get in tonight."

"Oh, by the way Dom, if there's ever a time when you don't fancy coming back to ours for the night, we'll understand, don't worry," Tom interrupted, waggling his eyebrows and grinning lewdly.

"What he means by that is, well, just don't bring it home, okay? I'd really rather not be involved," Chris clarified, dragging the ever so slightly drunk Tom out of the main room. There were only four customers left by this point, and they all looked as though they were making their way towards the exit. I heard Matt giggle behind me.

"Would you take me home, Dom?" he whispered, and I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

"I don't know, Matt. In all the movies I've ever watched, the main characters always have sex at the most ridiculous of times and then they all die because they didn't see the dinosaur behind them or something. Maybe we should fit into the pattern." Matt laughed at the dinosaur, but it wasn't the manic giggle I had grown so accustomed to. The breathy quality of it surprised me and I took a moment to really study the lines of his face, the hue of his eyes, the texture of his lips. As I watched them, he spoke, tongue darting out occasionally to wet his lower lip as he spoke. Fascinated by the movements, I missed everything that he had actually said.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, blinking my eyes into focus when I realised he had stopped talking. His lips twitched into a smile.

"Don't worry about it." He made to turn away but I grabbed his wrist and he raised an eyebrow at me, gladly stepping closer.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing, Dom. Really." And yet, all those times that I'd heard Matthew talk before, everything that he'd ever said, had been poignant to me. I refused to believe that it was nothing, but I knew that there wasn't a sensible answer. There was only one way I could reply to his comment.

Slowly, I leaned down towards him, simultaneously bringing my hand up to caress his cheek softly. My lips touched his carefully, and I could feel his own lips trembling beneath mine. My eyes fluttered closed, my thumb tracing the outline of his delicate cheekbone. I felt one of his arms wrap around my torso, gently pressing me further into him until our chests were touching.

Our lips fused together, Matthew's eyelashes brushing against my cheek as he tilted his head slightly, and I opened my eyes to stare into deep azure, like peering into the bottom of the ocean. Tiny strands of crimson poked out around his ears, bright against his creamy skin, and I moved to stroke them softly. All I wanted was to run my hands through his hair like his were in mine, his hands twisting my hair into clumps and teasing it between slim fingers.

Our breaths mingled between us, and I could smell his skin where it lay in front of me. The scent of red wine spiralled towards me, until I realised that I could taste it on his lips. He pulled back from me, closing his eyes, and stretched up to my ear, whispering,

"I was singing. Earlier. When we performed my song."

I felt his lips moving against my earlobe, felt the short gasps of breath tickling my skin. I nodded, wishing I'd been there to hear him and see him.

"Will you play it for me sometime?" I wondered.

"If you want." Just the thought of Matthew singing, singing his own precious creation, with just me in the room was enough to drive me crazy. I didn't doubt that I would go to the ends of the Earth to hear his singing voice again.

"I'd like that." I guided his lips back to mine, unable to get my fill of his taste. He wound his fingers into the front of my shirt, tugging gently and bringing me back down the corridor again. I was reminded for a moment that Luke was probably hiding back here still, but I didn't care. Away from the eyes of the customers in the club, Matthew seemed less inhibited, and I could feel a hand slowly dragging up and down my spine, sending ripples through my body until every nerve ending was on fire. His lips were white hot beneath mine, moving softly against me, luring me in.

Why had I not done this before? Why had it taken me the whole week to give into my desires? We could've been together this whole time, instead of getting into stupid arguments over our feelings. That was assuming that this was mutual, that is. It says a lot about the situation that my heart didn't start beating any wilder than the fluttering I was currently experiencing when I thought about this possibility. Having said that, I did narrowly miss biting down on Matthew's lip when the anxiety rose up. What was this between us? Were we...together? Was this what he wanted, or was he just testing things out?

Although, with the way his tongue was gently probing my lips, begging me for access that I would gladly grant him, I figured it wasn't something that I was imagining.

When Matt pulled back from me again, his hand remained in my hair, our foreheads still touching.

"Do you know how hard it's been to resist pushing you against a wall and doing that to you?" he asked me, his breaths coming hard and fast.

"Why did you bother waiting?" He smirked at me.

"It's all part of the game, Dominic. I had to make sure that everything was in place."

"In...place?" I bit my lip, paranoia sinking in as I debated the possibility that this was all some ridiculous practical joke.

"To know that you really felt the same way. I've never...I mean, I've had a girlfriend before, but that's it. And that wasn't like this. We'd known each other for so long and it just sort of...happened. I've never had a conquest or somebody that I wanted to chase after. And then you come along and," his fingers were trailing up my forearm as he spoke, "just change everything around. It's like I'm drawn to you. Like, you're a magnet and I'm a...an iron filing. I need to be near you." I chuckled.

"You're much more beautiful than an iron filing, Matthew." His cheeks flushed pink in a rare display of embarrassment and he hid his head in my shoulder.

"I'm not," he mumbled, my shirt muffling his reply. I simply laughed, wrapping my arms around his skinny frame and hugging him tightly.

"What are we going to do about this Luke thing?"

"I have absolutely no idea. I guess we'll have to be extra careful now, won't we? He didn't seem like he knew, though. When there were spies a few years ago, they knew everything already and were searching for something in particular, but he seemed really uninformed."

"I guess I can't just defend him as a curious newcomer now, can I?"

"Definitely not. There's something up with him." Matthew extracted himself from my embrace and reached for my hand, winding our fingers together as he dragged me out to the main room. Everybody had left by this point, and I could just about see Sophie leaning against the wall at the front of the room. We began clearing up, mopping up a few spills and taking down the stage setup. Sophie raised her eyes at our messy appearances, taking in my presumably wild hair and Matthew's flushed features.

"It's about bloody time," she muttered to herself, stacking chairs. _Oh, Sophie, exactly what I was thinking. _When we were done with the room, Matt and I wandered to the front of the room, my bag slung over my shoulder.

"Tell me if Luke turns up again," Matt directed me.

"Did you see him leave the corridors?" He shook his head and I nibbled my bottom lip, pondering how he could possibly have gotten out. Was he still hiding there, or was there a secret exit out the back? I became aware of Matt watching my face intently and allowed myself to be drawn in as he reached for my head, pulling me down to meet him. He gave me one last kiss for the night, his lips turning up at the ends.

"I could definitely get used to this," I breathed.

"Don't get too used to it," he warned me. "I'll be changing things up before you know it."

I grinned at him and he winked, sending shivers down my spine. I could only imagine what he had in mind, and even then I probably didn't even come close. God knows what goes on in that wild imagination of his.

I stepped out the front door, the wind ruffling my hair and the cold penetrating through my coat. The light flooded the alleyway where I stood, bathing it in a warm glow and highlighting Matthew's silhouette in the doorway. Teeth chattering, I waved goodbye to him where he was leaning against the doorframe, arms hugging his torso tightly.

"Goodnight, Dominic," he murmured. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I walked briskly down the alleyway to the main road, checking my every step. Shadows crept across the street and I felt like there was constantly something flickering out of the corner of my eye. Every time I looked, however, there was nothing there. The wind rustled the remaining leaves of the trees and they whispered warnings to me, my footsteps audible in the absence of any other sound. Silence and cold go hand in hand, the true partners in crime, and I knew that both were present with me that night.

The wind bit at my cheeks and I struggled against it, surprised that I couldn't hear it rushing past my ears. It was almost as if I was imagining the force pushing against me, but that was impossible, right?

As I walked past and alleyway, I could've sworn I had an animal skitter past, despite the alleyway being completely devoid of any life or place that it could hide. I shuddered at the thought of rats playing about my feet and tried to speed up, eager to get home quickly. However, although my legs were walking faster than before, I didn't seem to be going anywhere too quickly. I wondered if this was Matt had felt like when trying to get through the borders and scowled at the air, forcing myself further.

And then I heard footsteps behind me.

My feet ground to a halt, the shock shooting through my veins and hindering any further progress. Footsteps. Behind me. That couldn't be happening. I allowed myself a peek through my eyelashes at and saw a solid, stocky figure. Not just a crazy person walking outside on a cold evening. Not just a harmless bystander. My brain kicked into gear. Fight or flight? Stay or go?

Was I going to be a coward this time?

I swallowed and turned slowly to face my opponent, hands balled up into fists. My jaw was set, eyes hard like Matt's when he got mad. I knew I didn't look anywhere near close to intimidating, but I wanted him to know that, if I was going down, I wasn't going down without a fight?

"I'm not going to fight you," he assured me, hands held up defensively.

"Who said I was going to fight you?" I seethed, knowing that I was tense and that he could tell. I took a few deep breaths through my nose, willing my brain to fully restart. What did I know from my lectures and lessons? Had we learned what I needed to know yet? I tried to worm my way into Luke's mind, hoping to figure out his motives.

"You won't get anything. There's nothing there."

"There must be something. There's always something." He shrugged at me and I narrowed my eyes back at him. How could there possibly be nothing there? Unless...

"What do you want from me?" I demanded.

"I don't want anything from you. I just...well, I wanted to tell you something." I felt my eyebrow inch its way up my forehead ever so slowly. "Listen, there's a way for you to get out of this mess."

"_What_ are you talking about?" I resisted the urge to run a hand through my hair, knowing that it was still messy and wishing I had somewhere to put my hands, instead of watching them fall limp beside me. My palms had little crescent moons where my nails had dug in.

"This. You don't have to be a part of this, I promise you. I know that Matthew drew you in, but it'll all be fine if you just back out now." I took a step backward, my foot wobbling on the uneven concrete.

"You think he forced me into this? I'm here willingly. And I don't know what you think we're up to; I'm just helping out at the club- as a job. You know that." He gave a bitter laugh.

"You and I both know that that isn't the case, am I right, Dominic?" I shook my head, not wanting to blow our cover. Luke could bluff his way into our group of friends but he certainly wasn't about to infiltrate The Resistance. Not on my watch.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. I bet he told you to say that, as well."

"Matthew doesn't tell me to say a-"

"Never mind. I was just going to say, if you go to the town hall and register as a citizen, then you can get yourself out of this. You won't get hurt and neither will your family." _My family._ Alarm bells sounded in my mind, alerting me of something I hadn't yet considered. Would they seriously bring my relatives into this? _Could_ they?

"What, and get stuck in this city with nowhere else together? I don't fancy being bound to this place, thank you very much." As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I'd done wrong. I tried not to show my panic outwardly, but inside my stomach was churning. Luke's eyes flashed and I knew he'd picked up on what I'd said.

This was it now. I was going to die. He was going to smash my head in. He was going to set the government on me and search everyone I was related to. He was going to raid my room and Matthew's house and we'd be executed or something. My palms grew sweaty and I inconspicuously wiped them on the backs of my legs.

He nodded at me solemnly, and I noticed that he hadn't moved the entire time we'd been talking to each other.

"Very well. The option's still open for you if you choose to accept it. See you around, Dominic."


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Sleep evaded me once again and I caught myself wondering whether I'd be able to get some melatonin without a prescription. I had no idea how Matt managed to survive on barely any hours of sleep, because I was struggling to keep my eyes open as it was, and I'd only been living like this for a week. It was unbelievable how much had changed in such a short space of time.

Tom and Chris had both gone to bed and probably passed out by the time I got home, so the house was silent. I restlessly paced the lounge for about an hour, debating whether to stay up and wait around to see if Luke came home. However, weariness got the better of me and I found myself lying in my bed. Although, as you already know, it didn't do me any good. My eyes might have slipped closed once or twice, but they shot open again just as quickly. Images flashed against the backs of my eyelids and terrified me, my pulse racing every time I tried to catch a few minutes of rest.

In the end I settled for sitting cross-legged on the bed and staring out of the window as the sky grew light once more. The navy fabric of the sky melted into the sun as it peered over the horizon, shining off people's windows. I rested my head against the window, my breath fogging up the cool glass. How many more times would I get to see the sun rise at this rate?

The whole morning was spent disturbing myself with such disturbingly negative thoughts until I couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't like I had a specific timetable to adhere to; I could get up and walk around whenever I liked. Which is why Chris found me slumped at the table in the kitchen two hours later, sat in front of an untouched bowl of cereal. At first he didn't notice me, but he slowly turned back and his eyes travelled my lazy form.

"You okay, Dom?" he asked me softly. I shrugged. "Is this about Matt?" My eyebrows knitted together.

"Why would it be about Matt?" I wondered, puzzled. His toast popped up and he buttered it quickly before slipping into the seat opposite me.

"Well, it's just...look, mate, I can't help but notice that you seem quite attached to him. I was just wondering if-"

"No, no, no," I interrupted. "No, everything's fine with Matt. Never better, actually." I felt a smile began to spread across my face at the memory, my encounter with Luke the previous night having made me briefly forget what had happened. I felt like I could still feel his hands on my skin and the smile only widened.

"I don't even want to know what that means." I playfully punched his arm, the return of my smile making this role easier to play. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what's getting you down? Feeling homesick?"

"Not exactly. I'm just a little torn. Don't worry about it." I waved him away and made to get up from the table, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist. I turned back towards him, eyebrows raised delicately.

"I _am _worried about you, Dom. This isn't the first time I've seen you looking upset." I faked a laugh and immediately regretted it, the falsity as clear as day.

"Chris, I'm serious. I'm just a little overwhelmed with everything, I think. I should've settled in properly before I got involved with stuff. It doesn't matter." I pulled my wrist away but could feel his eyes boring holes into my back as I walked away.

After a shower to revitalise myself, I wrapped myself in my softest clothes and decided to head back down to the club. I doubted that Matt had even gone home, let alone slept, so he'd probably be there already. Waving a goodbye to Chris, I made the now familiar journey into the town. As I walked, I considered what Matt had said only a few days previously about my supposed ability to sense when things were off. What did that mean? I'd never believed in the supernatural, so it wasn't the first thing to come to my mind, but after I tried to figure out what he had meant, it was the only thing that seemed to make any sense. What a twisted world Exeter was.

As I turned the corner to the club, I paused and swallowed. Somebody was dragging a table out of the entrance into the alley and I felt my eyes grow wild. I remained there, rooted to the ground, until the person dragging the table turned towards me.

"What d'ya want?" he called. I shook my head at him.

"Nothing," I replied. "Must've taken a wrong turning." I backed away as normally as possible, waiting until I was far around the corner to start running.

I sprinted to Matt's house, the sound of my trainers slapping against the concrete echoing throughout the streets. The crisp air whooshed past my face, stinging my cheeks as I raced through the streets. I could see my breath in front of me, could taste blood in my throat, could feel a vein throbbing on my forearm. What were they doing? Did Matt give them permission to do this? Who even were they? My thoughts jumbled up together until they became a blend of words, my head spinning and eyes unfocussed. I'd never wished I'd taken PE in Sixth Form more.

After what seemed like an age, but was probably only five minutes, I reached Matt's house. I rapped on the front door urgently, impatiently tapping my foot as I threaded my hands through my hair. An angry face flung open the door and I found myself staring at Paul.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing banging on our door this early in the morning?" he demanded, teeth gritted. I winced.

"Do you know what they're doing to the club?" I questioned, suddenly unsure as to whether this had been ordered behind my back. Was this part of the trick they were going to play on me to test my worth?

"What are you talking about, Dominic?"

"I'm talking about the man that's dragging tables out of the club right this moment." He squinted at me, lines forming in his face and aging him at least ten years.

"There's somebody in the club?" I bobbed my head several times and he disappeared. I heard him yelling for Matt and Morgan and the former darted down the stairs, dressed in an over-sized T-shirt with his bright red hair flopping into his eyes at the front. He ushered me into the house and we went to the kitchen.

"Dom, what is this?" I tried to still my shaking hands and proceeded calmly,

"There's a man at the club right now. I went down there to see if anybody was there and...and-yeah, he was just there, dragging tables into the alleyway. I have no idea what's going on but I figured that-" I cut myself off as Matt disappeared once again, bumping into Morgan as he left. Paul filled Morgan in on what had happened and within another two minutes we were out the door again, Matt now sporting a jumper and a trilby hat whilst still wearing his plaid pyjama bottoms.

We weren't running as such, but the way my lungs constricted, we may as well have been. Paul and Morgan led the way, murmuring to each other as we speed-walked to the club. Matt's fingers found mine and I shot him a reassuring smile, scared to death by the trembling of his frozen lips. His hands were ice cold in mine even though I'd been outside longer than he had, and I massaged his palm with my thumb, sharing my warmth.

I did get one thing right, however. From what I'd observed of Matthew over these past few days, I wondered whether or not his attitude would change when we reached the club.

As soon as we rounded the corner and I saw the guy again, Matthew's jaw set. The man was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette and turned when he heard us coming down.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" Matt roared, the man's eyes widening. Amazed that such a sound could come from so small a person, I took a step back and noticed Morgan give him a wary glance.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"You tell me who you are first." His voice shook with anger as he seethed, tight coils of pure rage wound up in his body and threatening to burst out.

"I'm just here t-to clean your stuff out."

"_Why?_ Who gave you permission to do this?" Matt stalked towards the guy, imposing despite his height-or lack thereof.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm the owner, you moron!" His hand reached up and he made to slap the other man but thought better of it, instead reaching for his collar and gripping it tightly. "Now you tell me exactly what is going on here." The man scrambled against the brick wall, his still-lit cigarette falling from loose hands to the floor.

"I-I was just asked to clear out the place. I don't know why. I was told to b-by the mayor." Matt's hand released his shirt and he visibly ground his teeth together.

"I should've known," he spat. "Get out of here. Go!" The man held his hands up.

"This is my job! I can't just leave! I've been ordered to do my work."

"I said: GET OUT." The man scurried away, brushing past us in his haste. Matt stood, shaking, at the side of the alley and the three of us simply watched him lamely. Neither of us was brave enough to say anything to him, terrified that he'd lash out at us.

"Matt?" I whispered finally, biting my lip. His head whipped up and he turned to stare at me, frozen fires trapped in glass eyes. My teeth began to gnaw at the skin on my lip as I waited for his reaction, the seconds dragging out until they became minutes, minutes becoming hours, hours turning into days right before our very eyes until I realised I had been standing in front of Matthew long before I'd known him.

"Yes, Dominic?" he finally replied, ducking his head and breaking eye contact.

"What are we going to do now?" He sighed, reaching a hand up, presumably to ran it through his hair, only to find the woollen hat. He paced the alleyway for a moment, staring down at his feet and twiddling his thumbs.

"I'm going to go down there and demand to know what this is all about." The three of us paused and waited for him to continue, leaning forward in anticipation.

"And us?" Paul questioned, causing Matthew to snap his head back up.

"You three will stay here," he ordered. "You have to make sure-no. Scratch that. You..." he lowered his voice almost to a whisper, "you can go back to the house. Make sure you get all the files and stuff. You guys know what I mean-anything that could possible incriminate us. If they find anything, we're dead and you know it."

"What should we do with it?" Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, ducking his head until the darkness of the alleyway hit the planes of his face, dark shadows creeping underneath his cheekbones until he looked ill.

"Follow the emergency protocol."

I heard Morgan swallow beside me and turned towards him, raising a curious eyebrow. His face was set, warm eyes turned to stone, and I knew I wouldn't get any answers from him. Paul, however, seemed more animated.

"You can't be serious, Matt," he gasped. "What about everything we've worked for?"

"It's too much to risk it. I'm on the radar now. If they find me, if they find the house, they'll find everything. I'm not going to let them hurt any of you, but that will be enough evidence to get you chucked into prison at least."

"You said we'd take action in a few weeks. You said we'd decide on Wednesday!"

"Well, it's going to be sooner than that. You got what you wished for, Paul; I have no choice but to go down there and demand the club back. If they catch me, you're in charge here. You'll have to start afresh. All I can hope is that I succeed."

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I realised the implications of Matthew was saying. If he was going to talk to the mayor about this, they'd probably ask about his hat or maybe even recognise him from around the town. Surely they'd find some way to make him the bad guy.

"Matt, hold up for a second," I interrupted. "Are you saying that you're going to go down there and try and fight them off alone while we're, uh..."

"Burning papers," Morgan interjected solemnly.

"-Burning papers? You didn't think we'd let you go by yourself, did you?" An awkward silence hung over us as I eyed Matthew, waiting for his response and steeling myself to meet his eyes. He slowly raised them up towards me from underneath his eyelashes, pulling back the layers until I could see into his soul.

"I don't want to hurt you," he mumbled, barely audible over the wind.

"You'll hurt me more if you go alone and get hurt."

Paul and Morgan shuffled behind me and I ducked my head, suddenly reminded of Paul's vow to watch me carefully. A lock of hair fell into my eyes and I tucked it behind my ears, making a mental note to get it cut if I survived the next few days. Shocked by my own depressing acceptance of the future, my stomach twisted as I returned Matthew's gaze again.

"Fine," he allowed, at last. "You can come with me if you wish, Dominic."

"What about us?" Morgan piped up."

"There's still a job back to do at home, I believe. I'll come and help you for a while, and we'll need to collect Dominic's papers from his flat, but then we'll be off by ourselves. Is that alright with you two?" The pair nodded, but I could feel Paul boring holes into my back.

Before we left the alleyway, Matt peered at the door of the club. He fished for the key to the lock in his trouser pockets and then scowled at the door, noticing that it had been smashed in around the handle.

"I should sue them for breaking and entering," he muttered. "That club is _my_ property. Goddamn it."

Indeed, Matthew had worked hard to make the club as it was. It had become surprisingly successful considering how underground it all seemed, and they'd hosted many an exciting event there. The fact that he could lose this now not only meant that he had no income, but all that he'd worked for was lost. As if the government hadn't given us enough reasons to hate them.

We headed back to their house, parting there with Morgan and Paul so that Matt and I could collect my research from my room. We hurried up the stairs and noticed yet again how uncomfortably quiet it was.

"Can't you feel that?" I asked softly, uneasy as the silence crawled across my skin.

"Feel what?" he wondered. "Are you having one of those moments? Is there, uh, something in the air?"

"No, no, but...well, doesn't it seem eerie here to you?" He shrugged.

"Maybe everyone's out." Right. Normally I would've just accepted that, but I decided that it was about time I trusted my gut instinct with this place. Not that I actually had a plan to do anything about it.

I unlocked the flat, unsurprised to see that nobody was around. Chris had presumably left to work or...something, and Tom would probably still be in bed. Either that, or he was out wreaking havoc with Chris. I suddenly found myself jealous of them; only a week ago my life had been as simple as theirs, and now I was hanging on the precipice, unsure which side I would fall over. For a reason I couldn't fathom, the image in my mind's eye showed Matthew clinging onto my legs as he hung over the side that could only lead to our deaths, and yet I still refused to let him go.

I rifled through all the books and folders in my room, desperate not to leave any evidence around. Even if I ended up in prison after this, I couldn't leave my traces all over Chris and Tom. Matthew peered around my room as I worked, stroking the feathers on the fairy lights and testing the feel of my duvet between his fingers. I ripped papers from every notebook I'd used, pulled scraps from the waste bin and made sure I had every last copy. I hadn't kept much of the research for myself, having given much of it to Matthew when I helped to dye his hair, but I'd made a copy of some things for myself, and I still had the map he'd made me tucked into my wallet.

We left not five minutes after we'd entered, walking as swiftly as we could to Matt's house without looking suspicious. Matt awkwardly rubbed his head and fumbled with the door handle before Morgan let us in, only opening the door enough for us to slither in the side. I dumped my papers in the living room and finally noticed the fireplace sat in the corner. There were already a few loose papers tucked in there, but Morgan had hurried upstairs to where I could hear Paul tossing books off shelves in an attempt to reach every crack and crevice in their rooms.

Together, we made sure that all my papers were placed in the fireplace, and then Matt pulled a lighter from the coffee table. He carefully moved it against the corner of one of the pages, flicking the cap until the flame sparked up and ignited it. The fire sped through my notes, the paper curling and blackening when it had left. I could see my own handwriting and nights of research dying in the heat and hoped that we'd managed to collectively memorise everything we knew. The fire devoured the papers, dancing a tribal dance as, one by one, our knowledge was consumed and disappeared forever.

I felt Matthew's hand lightly brush mine and glanced between them and his emotionless face. I forced a smile onto my face for him but he saw past it, staring out of the window as he contemplated the next few hours. As soon as we heard Paul and Morgan clambering back downstairs, he pulled his hand away from mine and rested them in his lap, instead staring into the fire. I could see it reflecting in his glassy eyes, the flames giving his face a deceivingly warm glow despite his haunted expression.

"Matt, mate," Paul began, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Just go in there and ask for the club back. Don't worry about them discovering you."

"I have to be prepared, Paul," Matt grumbled through gritted teeth.

"I'm just saying, maybe this is a bit much." Matt swivelled around where he sat, turning his piercing glare on Paul and scowling.

"Nothing is 'a bit much' when it comes to this. If they catch me and come back here, they'll question you too. You have to deny knowing of any of this, okay. If you let on that you were a part of this, they'll skin you alive."

"But Matt-"

"I swear to God, Paul, if you don't burn these papers, I will personally come back from the depths of hell and haunt you for the rest of your pathetic little life." Morgan bit back a grin and I itched the back of my neck nervously, wondering why Matthew was so sure that he was going to hell when all he'd ever done was try to save people. "This isn't funny! I'm being serious here. You do a single thing out of line and your life is over, I mean it. I'm not risking any of you getting hurt."

"Then why are you letting Dominic go with you?" Matthew inhaled sharply, thinking through his answer.

"That's none of your business," he replied curtly.

"I see how it is, Matt. Just don't let it cloud your damn judgement, okay? And if he turns on you, don't come crying to me." My eyes widened and I swallowed the lump in my throat, shivering at his implications. Matthew crept to his feet.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" he hissed, eyes suddenly alive and hungry. The fire crackled behind me and I noticed Paul staggering backwards towards the sofa.

"I'm just saying that it's a p-possibility."

"Anything's a possibility. Anything-except that. If you say one more bad thing about Dominic, the club will go to Sophie and you'll be out of this. He is not for you to pick on, not for you to suggest things about and not for you to plot against behind his back. Did you think I didn't know?" He laughed bitterly. "Dominic is one of us now, and you'd better accept it, because he might just be the one that saves your life."

"Matt, I'm sorry, I-"

"Yeah, you'd better be sorry. One more word of this from you and, I swear on my life, this is over. He's mine." Paul balked and my jaw dropped, a million possibilities flooding my brain and making me ache for a sense of normality. Matt was about to pick up his rant again when Morgan interjected,

"Matthew James Bellamy, shut the hell up!" Everybody froze, shocked by Morgan's change in demeanour, and he shuffled away awkwardly, nodding his head at us as if giving permission for us to continue.

"James?" I whispered.

"What's so wrong with that?" he huffed, arms folding and eyebrows scrunched together.

"Nothing." A small smile flickered across my lips. "It's just, that's my middle name too."

His face softened, eyes warming as he turned to look at me. "Oh. That's...uh, I mean, what a coincidence, hey?"

My smile grew slightly and I looked back into the fire, pleased to see that my handwriting was now longer discernible, the papers beginning to crumble into dust. We sat there for a few minutes, Matthew watching Paul and Morgan, Paul and Morgan watching me, and I myself simply watching the fire as it slowly began to die. I fed it another piece of paper and then brushed my hands on my trousers. The fire roared behind me, extremely pleased with its prey, and I wondered what I'd even condemned to death just now.

"We should go," Matthew murmured, extending a hand down to me. I clutched it tightly and let him pull me up. He peered into a mirror, secured the hat onto his head and tucked in any stray strands, and then turned to the other two. After giving them a few final orders, they wished him good luck and he dragged me out of the door. My hand gripped his as our fingers slipped together, and we walked casually down the street. My heart was pounding in my chest as I finally realised what we were about to do and the possible consequences of this.

"Listen, Dominic, I have a plan," Matthew said covertly, bending his head towards mine. "Only if you want to, that is, but it'll make your presence less suspicious. I did a little research the other week, when you thought I was sleeping. Did a quick search of the building and made a basic plan. What I'd like you to do, if you're up to it, is to sneak into the back and try to get to their files. Can you do that?" I nodded my head eagerly, glad to be of use instead of standing around like a soft lemon. "You'll need to find my file, and maybe a few others as a comparison. That's all, but it could be difficult. Just be as inconspicuous as possible. I'll throw you as many hints as I can and try to buy you some time. Everything sounding good?"

"I," I croaked, struggling to force the syllables through my dry throat, "yeah, that sounds fine. I'll do that."

"Thanks, Dominic. You're a great help."


	15. Chapter 15

As we got nearer to the town hall, my stomach began to curl and I could feel my palm growing sweaty, although Matthew made no move to let go of it. I tried to swallow my fear but it just kept rising, the possibility that I might get caught and end up kicked out of the town, or worse, far too much to even think about. I didn't want to know what might happen if this went wrong, but my overactive imagination started thinking up several different situations, each equally terrifying as the last. My breaths were coming fast and my head spun, heart pounding and blood thrumming through my veins until I thought I might self-combust. I'd never really been a rule-breaker, and this was the most risky thing I'd ever done.

Suddenly, I felt Matthew's hand squeeze mine reassuringly, the pad of his thumb rubbing my knuckles and soothing my wild pulse. I glanced up at him, sharp blue immediately flooding my senses, and felt my knees buckle. What if something went completely wrong and we never saw each other again after this? I couldn't imagine anything worse?

"What are you going to do?" I inquired, needing to know his tactics and how long I would have to steal his file. He shrugged at me.

"Just wing it, I guess, like I do with everything." I nibbled on my bottom lip, still uncertain, and his expression softened. "Hey, it's all going to fine, alright?" I sighed.

"I just...I don't want you to get hurt." My voice was barely a whisper as I confessed this to him and his eyes grew sad.

"I'm not going to get hurt. Nothing bad will happen, I promise."

"I'm not so sure, Matthew. If they discover who you are and what you've done, things could go seriously wrong. You're the head of The Resistance; that's enough reason for them to put you in jail for life. There's just something at the back of my mind telling me that I might never see you again." He stopped walking, our joined hands preventing me from moving any further, and placed his hands on my face, forcing me to stare deep into his eyes.

"Dominic," he began. "Please trust me. I'm going to do my best. I know this is difficult for you, and it's difficult for me too, but you have to believe in me, okay? Don't let it muddle your head or you'll get careless and then things really could go wrong." I nodded my head, trying to look away but constantly aware of Matthew's hands on my skin.

"Okay. I-I'll try. I don't know whether it'll work, but I'll try."

"I believe in you, Dominic." I felt my heart swell at his words, my body suddenly not big enough to hold all these feelings without some of them spilling out, and my eyes started to grow wet with saltwater. It was absolutely ridiculous that was crying, especially when Matthew clearly needed me to be on the ball and raring to go, but I couldn't help myself anymore. I gravitated towards him, squeezing my eyes shut until the moisture started to trickle down my cheeks and meet his hands. One arm wrapped around me comfortingly, the other gently brushing the tears from underneath my eyes.

It wasn't an upset sort of crying. There was no heaving or sobbing, no coughing and choking on my own breath, just the liquid silently dribbling down my face and Matthew's silky smooth fingers wiping them away. I could feel the heat of his hand rubbing my back even through my coat, surprised considering he was usually so cold, and I wrapped my own arms around his torso. The smell of his aftershave and cotton shirt was familiar to me now, almost like home, and he fit in my arms perfectly.

"Can we just stay like this?" I whispered, unwilling to let him go. He chuckled quietly.

"Unfortunately, we have a job to do, otherwise I would be more than willing." I pouted, pulling myself away from him and shaking the final tears away, my cheeks burning. "If we get through this, we can just hang out at home together later, yeah?"

If.

He reclaimed my hand and we set off for the town hall yet again. I suddenly remembered the badge he'd given me when I'd first joined The Resistance with alarm, and quickly unpinned it from my jumper. I didn't want them confiscating it and finding the others because of my carelessness. The only thing worse than getting myself into trouble would be getting others into trouble because I wasn't thinking enough. I didn't think I'd be able to take that sort of guilt.

I tried to build up my confidence. I'd learned in the past that, the more you fake an emotion, the more you start to feel it. I doubted that it would work in this situation but, as I set my jaw and tried to will myself into confidence, I could only hope for the best. I wasn't going to let Matthew down. I wasn't going to let The Resistance down. I wasn't going to let the city down.

When we reached the main town, the hall looming up in front of us, I rolled my shoulders back, taking in a deep breath. It was a huge, red-brick building, several storeys high with blacked out windows on each floor except the final floor. I predicted that there was probably a basement as well as the hidden buildings behind. Who knew? Maybe there were even tunnels under the floor.

Matthew, his hand still tightly clasping mine, strode up to the main doors and pushed them open. The reception wasn't exactly grand, but it was well furnished and looked after. The high ceilings and pale walls gave a misleading sense of freedom, especially since I knew we were about to walk right into the trap. A sharp looking woman was sat at the desk, and she cleared her throat when she noticed us, tapping her pen on the desktop.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her nasally voice leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Yes, actually," Matthew began, pulling his hand from mine and leaning against the desk. "I wanted to inquire about a business problem." There was a pregnant pause as the woman waited for him to elaborate. "I found a man pulling the furniture out of my building this morning without my permission. He said that the mayor had told him to do it, so I wanted to know why he thought he could do that without asking me first." His tone was defiant and strong, everything that I hoped I could be, but the receptionist looked quite taken aback. I was worried for him; if he was acting like this already, how sharp would his tongue be when faced with the source of all his problems. I'd hoped I would be there to ground him if the time ever came, but I knew I was needed for a more important job.

"Right. Of course. Just this way." She got out from behind the desk and led us to an elevator. "The mayor's office is on the second floor. When you get there, it's the first door on the right. You can't miss it." We nodded at her and stepped inside the elevator, watching as the doors closed and she disappeared from sight. Even the elevator seemed posh to me, a mirror reflecting my nervous expression and Matthew's stormy features back at us. I went to ask him exactly what I was meant to do but reminded myself that there were probably cameras in every corner. Urgently, I glanced around to try and find one, and saw another red light winking at me from the top of the lift. I stared right at it, nudging Matthew until he saw where I was looking. He shrugged at me, and I knew I would need to be creative to get to the place I needed to go without being seen.

The lift had numbered buttons running down the side of one panel, just like any lift does, but most of these were labelled. The second floor was simply 'Mayor's office and registration', but the other floors seemed to have a more detailed description of what exactly one might find on that floor, just in case the workers got lost. The final button, however, neither had a number nor a description. I desperately wanted to push it, curious as to where it led, but knew that there may be terrible consequences if I did. Perhaps I would wait until Matthew had left to see the mayor and then I could have a look around. After all, I was going to be searching the building for a long time if I wanted to find where they kept most of the files.

We arrived at floor two with a cheery 'ping!' and Matthew stalked out of the lit, immediately heading for the mayor's office. He paused at the closed door and turned to look back at me, his expression softening for a moment to give me a reassuring gaze. I nodded at him, running my tongue over my chapped and trembling lips, flexed my fingers, and then set off in the other direction. I heard Matthew knock on the door behind me and resisted the urge to run back after him, instead continuing on my quest.

I tried to look as normal as possible as I patrolled the corridor, scanning each and every door. At the end of the second floor corridor, there was a door that was completely unlabeled, but I could see through the frosted glass that the walls were lined with filing cabinets. I pushed the door opening slightly, wincing when I heard it creak, and couldn't believe my luck. Surely I couldn't have found the room already, right?

I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me, flicking on the main light. It sprung to life, humming gently and illuminating the room. Slowly, I paced the edges of the room, running a hand over the filing cabinets until I came to a drawer labelled 'HI-HU'. I paused, knowing that I was meant to be looking for Matthew's file, but reminding myself that he needed some others for comparison. And, since I'd already found the room I was looking for, I had a bit of time to spare before he was done with the mayor. No doubt he would put up a convincing argument.

I slid the cabinet open, the sound of metal on metal grating at my ears, and sifted through the numerous files lying there. Eventually, I found my own file and pulled it out, shutting the drawer and leaning against the cabinet. I could have just one look, couldn't I? A quick peek before I continued my search wouldn't hurt anyone. I felt that I was entitled to read my own file.

I flipped open the first page and found last year's school photo staring back at me. I cringed, scanning through my personal details and flipping to the next page. It was entitled 'STUDENT' in huge, bold writing, under which was printed a list of terms and conditions. It didn't look personal to me, so I wondered whether that was what every student was entitled to. As I peered through the rest of the folder, I noticed that they had my life history, contact details and all of my family marked out on the papers. And finally, at the back, there was a collection of photos clipped together with a paper clip.

They looked like security camera footage, as they were a little fuzzy, but the colours were clear as day. There was a picture of me carrying bags from my car, a picture of me sat researching in the library, a picture of me entering the Cavern Club and a handful more that they must've deemed important. The one that most shocked me, however, had a flash of blue across it. Matthew and I were sprinting down the street, and Matthew was looking right at the camera, his eyes sparkling even in the blurry footage. His hair stuck out from the drab surroundings, fluffing up atop his head and condemning him simply because of its colour. The picture fell from my hands as I stared at it, gaping with wide eyes. They'd seen us. I'd spent so much time worrying about the monitors that I'd forgotten the security cameras that monitored your every move.

But if they'd seen us, why hadn't we been carried in here and sentenced already?

A noise outside startled me back to work and I shoved the file back in the folder, tucking it under my arm as I travelled around the room to find the 'BA-BI' cabinet. I rifle through the folders there, searching for Matthew's records, but couldn't find anything. There wasn't a single record of a Matthew Bellamy, or any Bellamy for that matter, here at all. I swallowed and checked again. I must've got something wrong. But, no, there was nothing there.

I searched through the rest of the drawers in the cabinet, thinking that they must've gotten it wrong and put his folder in the wrong drawer, but he wasn't in the rest of the 'B' cabinet at all. Matthew's folder simply didn't exist.

Either that, or they'd hidden it.

I pulled another random folder from the drawer and slammed it shut, flicking off the lights in the room and entering the corridor once again. I had the two folders pressed together so that anybody passing me couldn't see the names or details of them, and then I headed to the lift. My skin prickling, I knew that I had to press that button. It was my only option.

I found myself in the lift again, glancing up at the mayor's office to see that his door was still shut tightly. I couldn't hear any shouting coming from the room, which could either be a good sign or a terrible sign. Hopefully Matthew was trying to be diplomatic and not letting his heart rule his head. I stepped into the lift, letting out a breath when the doors closed and nobody followed me in. I bent myself over slightly to block the camera's view of the panel, making it look like I was searching for the right button to press. I pushed in the blank button, which made a satisfying click, and leaned back against the mirror, unable to face my own reflection when I knew what I was about to do. Even if these people were using as us their puppets or whatever they had plans, I was still stealing, and from somebody with authority. This might not get me killed anywhere other than here (although I didn't know whether it would get me killed here either), but it was still a criminal offence, and nobody would allow me to teach if I had a criminal record. Even when our lives were on the line, I still had to think of my future. No, I wasn't going to go back, but I was going to do this carefully.

I was going to do this my way.

I felt my stomach drop as the lift passed the ground floor, and wasn't sure whether I was imagining the increase in speed or not. I watched the display above the doors, which told me we were at the basement, but the doors didn't open and the lift continued down. No wonder Matthew hadn't known what the button did; there was no way of knowing how deep the building was just from the front of it.

The lift didn't ping when it landed, the doors simply opening and squeaking ever so slightly. I brushed down my shirt and walked forward, screwing my nose up at the cold. It reminded me slightly of the back rooms and the Cavern Club, but infinitely scarier. While the club had an air of cosiness despite the chill, this place made the hairs on my arms stand tall even under my coat sleeves, discomfort seeping into my bloodstream.

The lift had disappeared already, up to the ground floor, and I was left standing in a long corridor. However, it looked more like an underground tunnel that had been carved out. There was only one direction to walk in and, as I began my journey along it, I realised that there were no doors down here aside from the one set in the wall directly opposite me.

Well, no use delaying it.

I picked up the pace, hurrying over to the end door. It was dark, like the storage room had been, and but this door had a lock. I frowned to myself, pacing in front of the doorway as I tried to think of how to get the key. As I paced, I shoved my hands in my pockets and nearly pricked myself on something sharp. Baffled, I pulled the badge out of my pocket and my face lit up. I inserted the pin into the door, twisting it until I heard the lock click, and the door swung open. I allowed myself a smug grin before I progressed, closing the door behind me. I didn't particularly want to turn the light on in fear of drawing attention to myself, but I could barely make out shapes in the room, and I didn't want to risk hurting myself by stumbling into something which could potentially make a loud noise.

My hands fumbled over the wall, searching for the light switch, and I found the walls to be cold stone. I shivered, finally pressing the switch, and stumbled back in shock.

A man was sat behind a desk, his hands clasped together and his chin resting on them. What remained of his hair was greying slightly, and his eyes were set back in his face. There were lines all across his face and particularly around his smiling mouth. His position, however, didn't make me feel welcomed. He looked at me the way a predator looks at its prey, and I had half a mind to turn back and run away.

"Hello, Dominic. I've been expecting you," he addressed me, sitting up a little and unclasping one hand to hold it out to me. I pressed myself closer to the wall, the cold seeping through the thick material to my skin. Everything about this screamed 'danger', but there was no way I could run now. I'd been caught fair and square; all I could try to do was bluff my way out without giving Matthew away. Hopefully he would know what had happened and just leave.

The man dropped his hand and he returned to his original position.

"Why don't you have a seat?" He gestured to the wooden chair in front of him but I declined it, feeling minutely safer in my spot beside the door. "As you wish." He paused, eyeing me up, and I swallowed, setting my face and trying to show that false confidence I'd been working on. He laughed it away, rolling his eyes. "So tell me, Dominic, why did you come here?"

"How do you know my name?" I asked him, ignoring his question. I could hear the nerves shaking my voice and hoped that he couldn't tell just how terrified I was, in fear of him using it against me.

"I know everybody's names. I know everyone that comes into this town." I shook my head.

"Why? Who are you? What do you do?" The man chuckled deeply, the sound not at all friendly.

"You're quite the inquisitive one, aren't you? I suppose you have to ask lots of questions when you're studying the mind." I bit down on my bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood just on the tip of my tongue, not wanting to anger him with my questions. "I just have a lot of interest in the people of this place." He got up from behind his desk and strolled towards me, not coming any closer than two metres away from me, but enough for me to try and press myself further into the wall, to no avail.

"I've been living in this town for a very long time, Dominic. Since before you were born, I've been waiting for my chance to make a difference, but I was never given the opportunity until now. I've seen your work around the town. You've done a lot of work in the past two weeks you've been here. I have a strange sense of pride, even though I know it's not from my influence. Nor is it very helpful to me. In fact," he turned back towards me, silvery eyes boring deep into mine, "you've been quite a pest. I'm sure I can find it within me to forgive you, but first I'll need some answers."

"You still haven't given me my answers."

"All in good time, Dominic. I've seen you hanging around with that young Matthew. He seems to be a bit of a troublemaker, doesn't he?" I kept my lips tightly sealed, staring right back at him. "I see. I was having a little walk about the town, just ambling through the streets, when I heard incredibly music one evening. Of course I went to investigate, displeased at having my evening spoiled by such a racket. And can you guess what I found?"

"A band of school children? A dying cat?" I knew exactly what he found, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of wringing details from me.

"No. I found the 'Cavern Club'. That music place run by Matthew. Do you know it? Of course you do. You work there. Well, I saw you working there and I figured I would check out Matthew's file and see what he had to do with you."

He had reached his desk again, and he picked up a folder that was resting on the side. He flipped to the first page, flashing it at me. A picture of Matthew, with sensible black hair and lacking his cheeky smirk, graced the page, personal details on the side just like my file had been. However, there was an extra box at the bottom entitled 'Offences', and I could see a list of times Matthew had been seen to be offending others or coming close to breaking the law. The time they busked in the street had been ringed several times until the pen broke a hole through the paper.

"You don't look surprised, Dominic. Were you aware of Matthew's recklessness? I was astounded at his sheer bravery-and idiocy, mind you-but bravery all the same. And to see you, an innocent university student, talking to him so closely, was a shock to me. I wondered, 'what exactly was he doing to you?' And then I began to think that you were conspiring against us. Were you conspiring against us?"

"Not at all," I lied, face calm.

"No, no, you wouldn't do that, would you, Dominic Howard?" A glint of metal registered in my peripheral vision and I glanced back to his desk, where a large plaque read, 'Charles Howard, creator of Exeter'. My breath caught in my throat and I resisted the urge to gape at him, although my mind was racing. It could be another Howard, right? There was another Howard family in the filing cabinet next to my name, so he could be related to them. As his eyes locked onto mine, however, I couldn't deny that the silver tones reminded me of my own. And I felt sick to the core.

"It's all falling into place now, isn't it, Dominic? All your strange premonitions, when things didn't feel quite right, when you could sense the borders but still pass through. Have you figured it out yet?"

"My genes," I whispered, disbelief colouring my tone. A grim smile spread itself across Charles' face.

"Clever boy. I created a machine to scan people's genes. All Exeter residents have their genes entered into the system automatically after a week, which is why people don't stay here on holiday for long, and the system remembers them. If they try to pass out again, their body will be scanned for a matching gene pool. If they match a record in the database, they are officially a citizen of Exeter and cannot leave the city. The University students are also scanned but the records are marked in a certain way that allows them to enter and leave the city as they please-although that should be changing soon enough. I should thank you, actually, for proving a point to me. The havoc you and Matthew have caused around here means that I convinced the rest of the officials to make students official citizens so that they can't get up to any funny business."

I felt my heart drop to my feet, having accomplished exactly what I didn't want to do. Because of my own foolish actions, I'd managed to ruin everybody's lives. Because I was so stupidly attracted to Matthew, I'd gotten caught up in his daring plans and now nobody could leave. So much for being the hero of the city.

"What's that got to do with me?" I croaked.

"I had to enter my genes into the system as well, you know, to give myself extra privileges as the creator. Naturally, I am allowed to do as I please. The system recognises your genes as similar to mine, so perhaps that is why you had a slight inkling of what was going on. Don't think this allows you my privileges, though, because it doesn't." He cackled at me, wheezing as he bent over himself and slapped his thighs as if he'd just told the funniest joke ever. I blinked at him, still too stunned to function properly, and waited for his episode to pass.

Once he had composed himself, he returned to his seat.

"So," he began again, those eyes watching me disconcertingly, "do you know who I am yet?" I shook my head at him. My family had never mentioned a Charles or any long-lost relative. Charles looked almost sad, although I couldn't be sure, as his face seemed to be constantly pinched into a frown. "That's a shame. I am...was your father's brother. I'm your uncle, Dominic."

I felt my fists curl up, wondering why my family had never mentioned him or thought to warn me of him. If I'd known about this, maybe I wouldn't have gotten into this mess. I could've gone to a normal university and led a normal life and gotten a job and a boyfriend and gone on holidays to nice places. But then, of course, I would never have met Matthew and never have had this adventure.

"Tell me, how is your father?" he requested, and I felt my frame start to shake.

"He's dead," I muttered bitterly, savouring the shocked expression on Charles' face.

"Goodness! What happened? Did he hur-"

Whatever he had planned to say, whether it was insulting my father or genuinely caring about him, was interrupted by a shriek from above us. I felt my heart stop for second before it began to beat in double time, when the shriek was clearly followed by a cry of,

"DOMINIIIIC!"


	16. Chapter 16 (final)

16.

At the sound of Matthew's cry, all qualms left me and I raced out of the room, throwing the door in Charles' face as he began to follow me out. My youth carried me faster, and I hoped that I would reach the lift before he could catch up with me. The cry had come from above, penetrating through the walls enough for me to hear the hoarseness of his voice, and I presumed he was in the basement.

I reached the elevator, pushing the button rapidly several times over until it registered a ping and the doors slid open. I threw myself into the lift and pressed the button for the basement, watching as Charles slowly gained on me.

"Close, close, please," I muttered urgently to the doors as they began to slide shut. Charles was just reaching the lift, his arm outstretched, when the doors closed completely and I was carried upwards. The last thing I saw was his stormy expression as he spat at me. Knowing I needed to divert him, I pressed the button for the top floor as well, reminding myself to leave when I got to the basement and hoping it would carry on to the top of the building before returning to Charles down below.

I tapped my feet nervously, turning away from the mirror so I didn't have to face myself. This lift was far too slow to be of any use and, in the silence, I found myself agonising over what Matthew's cry was about. Had he been hurt? Did he need me to come and back him up against the mayor? It must have been desperate if he was willing enough to reveal my name and his location to the entire building.

As soon as the doors sprung open again, I sprinted out of the box and into the basement area. There was no sign of anybody around, and I hissed, "Matthew?" into the darkness. There was no reply. This floor was very different to the others; instead of a long corridor with doors lining the sides, this was simply one huge room. A maze of filing cabinets stood before me, and I wondered how anybody ever managed to find anything in here. I wasn't even sure what all these documents were.

A shuffling sound startled me and I edged towards the side of the room, scowling in the darkness. I didn't have anything to light my path, and who knew where the light switch would be? As my eyes slowly grew accustomed to the low light, I began to seek out the rest of the room.

There were pinboards and posters on the walls, just like any other office room, and I made my way over to one. Workers' names were written on scrap pieces of paper, schedules outlined and business contracts signed with messy signatures. I pulled a pin from one of the pieces and stuffed it into my pocket, remembering how useful my badge had been. Then I set about looking for Matthew.

Obviously, if he was in this room, he must've been hiding or trapped. Which meant that somebody else was in here with him, and somebody else would hear any noises I made. I stood stock still, listening for any clues that somebody else was wandering around.

There was nothing for over a minute.

And then finally, I heard somebody curse in a whisper as they bumped into one of the filing cabinets. They were all the way across the other side of the room, far from the door, and I knew that Matthew must be over there. I waded my way through the maze of metal towards the offender, hoping that when I found him, I would also find the man I was looking for.

It was a treacherous journey. Floorboards threatened to creak under my weight, filing cabinets throwing themselves in my path when I thought I had a way out. It crossed my mind that they'd been set up this way deliberately, instead of like the organised filing room upstairs. Hopefully their plans would backfire and it would cause more trouble for the predator than the prey.

I suddenly felt something grip my leg and my eyes widened of their own accord. I clamped one hand over my mouth so that my noise of shock was muffled, and glanced down towards my leg. All I could see was the sparkle of somebody's eyes, monochrome in the darkness. No shadows or stray sunlight could reveal any features to me, but the feeling of long fingers wrapping themselves around my shin was surprisingly reassuring. I bent down and lowered my voice until it was barely audible.

"Matthew?"

"Dominic," came the breathy reply. "Help."

"What's wrong?" I began to bend down towards him, lowering my voice further when our faces were inches away from the other.

"The mayor couldn't find my file. He accused me of taking it," I swallowed nervously, "and went to search in the file room. Said that somebody had been in there and demanded it searched. Any minute now they'll find the missing ones." I bit my lip, the lack of files under my arms suddenly springing to my mind. I must've dropped them back in Charles' office, and that could mean any number of things.

"Matth-" I began anxiously, but he cut me off.

"Got into an argument with me and started yelling accusations. All sorts of things spewing from his fat lips, some that I am guilty of, but many that I'm not. Said that the Cavern was a terrorist base or something like that. The guy's mental, Dominic, I-" Just then my hand came into contact with Matthew's head, and I felt something very wrong. Fine, soft hairs slipped between my fingers as I moved my hand towards him.

"Matthew...your hat." His voice was sombre.

"He pulled it off. That's when everything went pear-shaped. He had proof, there and then, and that seemed to mean that I was guilty of all the other offences, too."

Whilst talking to me, his hand flew out to steady himself and accidentally knocked against one of the cabinets. The sound of bone against metal rang through the air like a baton striking a gong to signal the beginning of the war, and we both froze.

"Matthew, we need to go," I ordered. "Now." I yanked him up from his position on the floor and we raced back the way I'd come, Matthew stumbling after me with his hand locked in mine. I hadn't got very far across the hall, so I hoped that the man searching for us wouldn't be able to find us just yet. If we were this close to the door, we'd hopefully be able to make a swift escape.

Matthew pushed the door open with his free hand and we broke through, squinted against the light. I threw myself at the elevator, again shoving the button until I thought it might break. The wait for the doors to slide open was excruciating, and I was fairly sure that Matthew was thinking the same thing I was: we're going to die.

It hit me that I was being extremely pessimistic today. I wasn't usually so macabre, choosing to focus on the positives in order to get me through the day. It had been a habit of mine since a young age, but I was struggling to keep it up today. I decided to force myself to think of happy things to boost my confidence, constructing an ideal future in my mind. Dreams of wide, open fields, sparkling seas the same cerulean as Matthew's eyes, supple, pale skin beneath my hands and...

Elevator doors pinging open.

We flung ourselves into the lift and nearly fell back out again. Matthew yelped in surprise while I merely stood, gaping like a goldfish.

"Hello again, Dominic," Charles greeted me, his voice somehow smooth but biting. Matthew's hand left my own to clutch at my bicep, and I turned to him to reassure him.

"M-Matthew, this is Charles. He created the city," I informed him. Matthew nodded in understanding.

"And I'm Dominic's uncle." Matt's face fell into an expression of shock and betrayal.

"You wh-" He started angrily, but I held a finger to his lips.

"I didn't know," I explained. "I've just met him. It seems he knows a lot about...us."

"Indeed I do. My, my, what a pleasure to meet you at last, young Matthew," Charles crooned, Matthew staggering back with wide eyes. "I've been watching you over the past few months, trying to ruin my city when you thought I couldn't see. Oh, the mayor was oblivious to you, but I certainly wasn't."

"Why didn't you act on it, then?" Matthew asked him. I noticed that his voice seemed much stronger than mine, conviction ringing out strong and true. Charles chuckled at his forwardness.

"What a fantastic question. You see, Matthew," the doors finally slid closed behind us, trapping us in the box with the old man, "I'm not an unlawful person. I wasn't going to persecute you just because of a few actions that looked a little dubious, so I waited until I had proof. Although, you're not doing yourself any favours right now."

Indeed, Matthew's head appeared the be on fire, bright flames sprouting from his scalp, as if he could turn it on somebody and burn them to a crisp. I only hoped that his sharp tongue had the same power.

"What's it to you?" Matthew spat. "If you're going to kill me, I may as well go down fighting." Charles cackled again.

"Aren't you a lively soul? You've got vigour; I like that. Dominic here, well, he gave in a lot quicker than you did." I felt offended for a moment, crossing my arms and wondering when my best had not been good enough, but remembered all the whimpers and astounded whispers. I supposed that allowing him to draw me in with conversation and promises to reveal Matthew's identity was technically like walking into the home of the beast. He had control of me from the first step I took into the room. "What makes you think I'm going to kill you? Oh, no! We don't use capital punishment here. Those are just rumours to scare you all."

Matthew turned to share a worried look with me.

"No, no," Charles continued, "we just imprison you for life. Make you do our work. Turn you into our slaves. Which option would you like?" I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head back against the wall of the box. I heard Matthew cursing beside me.

"You'll never take us alive. You can't do anything to us. We haven't even done anything wrong!"

"Don't try and pull one over on me, boy. I have all the evidence in your file, downstairs on my desk. Oh, yes. You're in deep trouble."

I realised that I'd been so distracted by Charles' mystery identity downstairs, that I'd never actually found out why we were about to be thrown into jail.

"What's going on?" I asked innocently. "Okay, so Matthew has red hair and owns a music club, but that doesn't exactly require a life sentence." In fact, I knew that we'd been extra careful with all of our plannings for The Resistance. Not a single sheet had gone missing when we cast them into the fire earlier that morning, so what could he possibly know?"

"Don't you know, Dominic?" His voice reminded me of those sour sweets that my sister always purchased on the way home from school. They were sugary on the outside but, as you sucked them, you realised the core was sour, and the only way to get the bubblegum hidden within was to last it out. By the end, you felt like your tongue was burning and the gum wasn't often worth it, but we still endured it once a week. "Has Matthew not told you of what he's been doing behind your back?"

I turned to eye Matthew, who had suddenly ducked his head. His red hair looked droopy when it had been flattened by his hat, and he ran a hand through it nervously, although it flopped back down to cover his face.

"What's going on?"

"It appears that you trust Matthew a lot more than he trusts you. He hasn't quite told you everything about his operations, have you, Matthew?" There was a mumble from beside me. "Go on, tell him what you did." Matthew remained silent, and Charles' voice hardened. "Tell. Him."

"I...I set up cameras," Matthew sighed, revealing the information reluctantly. His voice was unnaturally slow, as if withholding his words for a little while longer could comfort him somehow. "Around the town, I put them up to observe people and the way they move. Some have been there for a while, but I put a few up just the other day." I stood there next to him, astounded.

"Tell him why."

"I said that already. To observe people. I watch them and try to figure out what they're doing. I was going to ask you to help me, because you're doing Psychology, but I thought you might think I was a stalker. I-I didn't want you to...hate me." His head hung in shame and I bit my lip.

"But now he does," Charles said, his voice low and deadly. "Don't you just wish you'd told him that you were stalking him before instead of being force to reveal it now?"

"I'm not stal-" Matthew lashed out and I grabbed his arms before he could do anything stupid. He threw himself at Charles but I kept a firm grasp of his wrists, hushing him and whispering into his ear.

"Hey, Matthew," I told him. "I don't hate you." I paused, rubbing one hand over my mouth and binding his wrists together with the other one. As I thought through what to say, the lift doors pinged open. There was a moment of silence, as if Charles expected me to continue with my speech instead of react, and I kicked into action. I freed Matthew's wrists, knowing that we could run faster if we weren't bound to the other, and leaped out of the lift, sprinting past the reception desk. I could hear footsteps behind me and knew that Matthew was running with me. Charles' voice echoed angrily in the background as he yelled after us, and I allowed myself a laugh at the baffled expression on the receptionist's face. Clearly this wasn't her average day.

As soon as we hit fresh air, I glanced back at Matthew. He still looked anxious, but he shot me a thumbs up and I pushed myself further, feet slapping against the concrete. The streets were deserted again, and goosebumps rose on my arms.

"Matthew," I gasped, turning back to him as we zoomed along. "What are we going to do?"

"We need to get out of here," he replied, speech choppy as he struggled to breathe. "I've got a plan."

I could feel my stomach growing tight, reminded of the time we ran through the streets back to Matthew's house from the Italian restaurant, and knew I wouldn't be able to keep up this pace much longer. As soon as we were out of sight of the town hall, I slowed down to a jog. Matthew zipped past me and then skidded to a halt, waiting for me to catch up. We jogged next to each other in silence for a moment, before he broke the ice by clearing his throat.

"I don't hate you, Matthew," I told him honestly. "In fact, I don't know why either of you thought I would hate you."

"A lot of the cameras you've spotted around town are actually mine," he admitted, voice small. "I've been watching everyone, even when you thought it was the mayor spying on us. That camera you saw on your first day here, with the little red light?" I nodded, remembering how peculiar it had seemed. "That was one of mine. I was there to check up on it, because somebody reported that it was broken. That's why I was out there without my hat, because it was an emergency. And it turns out that it wasn't actually broken; Charles must've faked a report to lure me out. I couldn't believe I fell for it." His words came out in a hurried rush, as if he was desperate to tell me these things.

"Hey, Matthew, it's okay." I placed a hand on his arm and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "I think it's pretty clever. I never would've thought of that myself, although I wish you had told me first. Perhaps some things would have been easier. And I could've helped you with your analysis." He shook his head.

"It wasn't very important anyway. I couldn't get any cameras up near the town hall without being noticed, so I never caught who actually worked there or any of the action up there. Nothing useful came out of the project, really."

"It doesn't matter. I could never hate you." Only silence followed, and I wondered if I'd crossed some sort of invisible line. Matthew's face was hidden behind his hair.

We were nearing our homes now, and I was eager to find out what Matthew's plan was. There had been no sign of anybody following us from the hall, so we slowed to a swift walk as our street came into view. Matthew ran a hand through his hair and turned to me as we stood outside his front door.

"I think that I've figured out a way to get out of the city," he confessed, tilting his head to give me the full force of his stare. But I need your help." I shrugged.

"I'll do anything."

"Your car." I twisted around to look at it where it was sat in the little place I'd parked it on the first day. I hadn't returned to it at all since then, having found no use for it.

"Ye-es?" I dragged out the vowel, confusion tilting my voice. Matthew sighed, his face creasing up.

"Just...just go and pack a bag, please. Meet me back here in five." With that, he darted into his house and I was left alone. I walked into the building, heading up to my flat and greeting people I met on my way up. Unlocking the door to the flat, I pushed it open and was greeted by Tom and Chris both sat on the sofa, arms folded and staring at me. I paused.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked them, stepping into the house and closing the door behind me.

"Dom, we're worried about you," Chris admitted. "You're never around and when you are, well, you're always worried."

"Just stress with courses, I guess." They both shook their heads, and I felt completely see-through.

"Dom, you know Luke disappeared last night. We have no idea what happened to him, but we're terrified." My mouth went dry. I'd completely forgotten about Luke, but it suddenly hit me that he might have been where Charles had received all of his information from. I wondered what would happen to him now that he'd proved himself worthless.

"Guys, seriously, you're worrying over nothing. I'm absolutely fine." I skirted around the sofa, nipping into my room, and heard them follow me. Pulling a bag from my cupboard, I stuffed in some extra clothes, my iPod, a few books I would need and some stationary items. As I was scanning the room for anything else I might want, Tom remarked,

"You're leaving."

"No, I'm not," I lied, shaking my head and feigning shock. "I'm just going out for the day."

"Dom, nobody takes three pairs of jeans when they're going out for the day. Where are you going?" I sighed, not wanting to reveal my plans to them when I didn't even know half of the plan myself. I threw my hands in the air.

"Fine, you got me. I'm going home to visit my family for a few days. I've been feeling pretty homesick and Mum invited me back to stay for a while. There you have it." I pretended to be ashamed at longing for my mother, but the burning in my cheeks was brought about by the guilt of lying to my friends. Their expressions softened immediately and Chris wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"Why didn't you say anything, Dom? We were worried sick about you!" he reprimanded me gently.

"I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to say anything. I would've left a note." Chris left me go and I suddenly found myself in Tom's arms.

"You have a good time," he ordered me. "Get some rest. We'll be here for you when you get back." A sudden pang of emotion struck me and I realised that I would really miss these guys. In the few weeks that I'd known them, they revealed themselves as supportive, caring friends he liked to have a laugh. It would be a shame to lose this friendship, but I knew it was what I had to do. I hugged Tom back tightly for a few moments and then let him go.

"Thanks, guys. I'll see you in a couple of days, yeah?" They nodded and waved at me, telling me to enjoy myself and not to get too fat as I left the flat. I wouldn't ever be coming back.

I jogged down the stairs to the street where Matthew was waiting for me. I was hidden out of sight of our window, so I knew that Chris and Tom wouldn't be able to see me.

"What took you so long?" he demanded.

"Had to say goodbye to Tom and Chris," I mumbled, my eyes slightly wet. Matthew immediately softened and he wrapped his skinny arms around my waist, rubbing circles into my back.

"I'm sorry, You know we have to do this, right?" I nodded, my chin bumping the top of his head.

"What's the plan?" I stuffed my bag into the boot of my car and took Matthew's from him before getting in on the driver's side. Matthew turned to me from the passenger seat.

"Listen, you can drive through the borders because you're a student. I was thinking that, well, if you're driving the car, we might both be able to get through."

I fell silent, thinking through what Matthew had proposed.

"You want me to drive us through." He nodded and I thought of the possible consequences. If this went wrong... "Are you sure?" He nodded again.

"It's our only option, Dominic. Either this or a life in prison." His voice lowered, darker undertones seeping in. "And I'd rather die than live as their slave." I felt the same way, but my stomach curled in a way that it never had before as I considered our futures. This was what it all came down to. All that fighting for freedom, all those times that we'd risked being discovered, and we were just running away.

No, Dominic. Look on the bright side.

This was going to be our life now. I tried to think of situations, and suddenly an images flashes through my mind. Matthew and I, travelling through the countryside, windows open as the wind ruffles our hair. I can smell the sea salt in the air, can feel the steering wheel firm beneath my hands, can sense Matthew's presence beside me. He giggles manically and I laugh along with him, a smile widening my face. It seems ideal and, suddenly, I don't want anything else.

I slam my hands down on the steering wheel, turning to Matthew and taking a deep breath. The nerves make the edges of my lips flicker, almost like a nervous smile. He flashes one back to me, his crooked tooth poking out between red lips.

"Are you ready?" I ask him, nerves shaking my voice. He shakes his head suddenly and leans forwards, pressing his lips to my own. I close my eyes, running a hand through his hair for the first time since I dyed it. It's soft between my fingers, and the combination of that sensation and the feeling of his lips working against mine is overwhelming. I feel a salty tear slip over from my eyes and slide down my cheek. Matthew kisses it away and smiles at me, joining our hands together.

"Thank you, Dominic. Thank you for being here with me during this whole adventure. I've loved every minute with you and I-" His voice cracks with emotion and he looks away before turning back to me again, and I'm drowning in the oceans of his eyes. "Thank you." I nod, knowing exactly what he means, and kick the engine into gear. We're both shaking with anticipation, and my heart beats wildly against my ribcage.

"Let's go," I murmur, pulling out of my parking spot and watching as our homes disappear behind us. Everything we've worked for these past few weeks, everything we've known, all our opportunities and successes are disappearing behind us, but we're going forward together. Matthew hand grips my own tightly, slender fingers winding their way around my own and comforting me slightly. I should've called my mother and told her what was happening, should have left some clue for Tom and Chris that I wouldn't be coming back, but it's too late for that now. Everything's all about the present, and I can only focus on getting out of this city.

As the buildings disappear behind us, we reach the place we tested out the borders by ourselves. I stop the car and look over at Matthew.

"Go," he whispers. My hands shake, my body unsteady.

"I-I can't," I mumble, feeling sobs threatening to shake my body even further.

"You have to. Dominic, I trust you." I steel myself, and inch my foot down on the accelerator. Matthew turns on the radio, the news suddenly being projected into our car. I hear our names and the angry voice of the mayor, hear a description of our appearances, people giving out rewards if anybody finds us. I wonder if people will try to go after us and give us into them.

The car gets closer and closer to the border, and Matthew whimpers beside me. His hand tightens around my own, and I know he's just as scared as I am. And I'm absolutely terrified. Every metre we cover, we're closer to our futures, whatever they may be. I hold my breath and wish for the past.

As we cross the border, I turn to look at Matthew. There's a light in his eyes and he looks straight at me, our souls connecting. I shudder, feeling us push through the border at high speed. We whiz through and, for a second, I think we've made it.

But Matthew hasn't made it. As I'm pulled forward, he remains pinned to his seat, almost as if his skin is being pulled back by the sheer force of the border. And with Matthew pulling it back, the car can't go any further. It stumbles and stutters and suddenly we're tipped over, flung forward by the border and the curse of Matthew's genes.

We crunch over the road, Matthew crying into my ear as I scream and shake all over. The radio is still playing as we tumble, frantically pulling ourselves from within the wreck to find ourselves surrounded by more bits of metal. We're flying through the air, crushed car and borders making a deadly combination when, suddenly, I'm flung over the other side. I'm outside of Exeter, and I slump to the floor with a sickening crack.

I'm still so close to Matthew, but he's on the other side, hidden out of sight. I can't think, I can't focus, I can't do anything but scream. Every part of my body feels like it's on fire and, as I crack open my eyes and take in my surroundings, it could possibly be. That damn radio is still going, the station flickering. I crawl forward, using my good hand to propel myself further. I see a hand clawing its way out of the wreckage and yell for Matthew. My cry is hoarse and I wonder if he can hear me under all the rubble.

I try to take in my injuries. Every part of me hurts, like every bone has been snapped. The tears stream down my face, blurring my vision until it becomes a collage of scarlet flames. Blood drips down from my forehead to further inhibit my sight and, as I edge forward, I feel something snap. I can't move any further. The pain flares up in my leg and I scream, begging for a release from this agony, anything to stop the pain.

I see a flash of blue as Matthew falls out of the car, limp and boneless. He's mouthing at me, his eyes never leaving me except when they dart over to the radio. I can't concentrate on him. It's too much effort to figure out what he's saying. My head is screaming at me to let go. I feel my eyes beginning to droop, Matthew's own bright irises still within my view.

The words of the radio come to me, sending shivers down my spine.

"It's an isolated system," a female voice tells us. "Somebody figured it out. The research is everywhere now." It clicks into my place, but my mind can't make anything of it. Research? My papers? I was sure it sounded familiar. Was that my work?

Matthew was screaming something unintelligible at me, my vision growing dark around the edges.

Isolated system. There was something about that I should know.

Something...important.

The radio hitches.

It repeats itself.

Over and over.

Isolated system.

In an isolated system.

E-entropy can only...

There. That was it. That's what I needed to know.

Our entropy, our energy, we're decreasing. Matthew and I, we tried so hard, but we got nowhere, because our entropy was increasing. Our disorder, our disorganisation.

I smile to myself.

I loved him.

I figured it out. All by myself. Fantastic.

Matthew is still yelling at me. His head is on fire. He's shaking his limbs and they're not working. He's crying and screaming and trying to push through. Why hasn't he got here yet? I shake my head.

It's no use. I've got the radio to keep me company. Don't you worry about me.

It sings to me softly, singing until I fall asleep.

"In an isolated system, entropy can only increase."

In an isolated system, e-e-entropy incre-crease.

In an isolated system, isolated,

I am isolated now.

Isolated system.

E-e-entropy.

Isolated...


	17. Note of Thanks and Playlist

Okay, so this is my final note. I'd just like to say thank you to anybody that's bothered reading this. It's been a real adventure to write it, and it's certainly going to take a hell of a long time to edit the whole thing, and I've really enjoyed myself. So, yeah, if you read it when I posted it, or you're reading it now several years after I wrote it or something like that:

Thank you :D

And yeah, to all budding writers out there like me, I definitely recommend checking out NaNoWriMo. It really helps you find yourself sometimes.

Anyway, I had this playlist that I stuck to whilst writing it, which really messed up my , so I figured I'd put it here for you so you could see what inspired each chapter and have a little listen if you want. They're not necessarily for specific chapters but more atmospheres or events, so I'll just put them in order and they should fit wherever. The ones with * really fit the story so well and you should definitely listen to them because

They're awesome songs

They fit perfectly with that scene of the chapter. And I mean perfect.

So yeah. Enjoy...

**Killing in the Name- Rage Against the Machine **

**All Signs Point to Lauderdale- A Day to Remember **

**AKA IDIOT- The Hives **

**2+2=5- Radiohead **

**Take the Power Back- Rage Against the Machine **

**Crush Crush Crush- Paramore **

**Politik- Coldplay **

**Knights of Cydonia- Muse **

**Uprising- Muse **

**Spaceman- The Killers **

**Spectrum- Florence and the Machine***

**Let's Kill Tonight- Panic! At the Disco **

**Michael- Franz Ferdinand***

**Spiralling- Keane **

**Lonely Homes- Midnight Youth **

**Who Knows Who- Muse and Mike Skinner **

**27- Fall Out Boy **

**Microphone Fiend- Rage Against The Machine***

**City of Delusion- Muse* (well duh)**

**Northern Downpour- Panic! At the Disco **

**The International End Titles- Matthew Bellamy **

**New Divide- Linkin Park **

**Pretender- Foo Fighters **

**Chapter 2- The Joy Formidable (unfortunately not for chapter 2) **

**Con-science- Muse**

**Assassin (Grand Omega Bosses Edit)- Muse **

**Doomsday- Murray Gold **

**I Am Disappeared- Frank Turner* **

**The 2****nd**** Law: Isolated System- Muse* **

Lots of Muse haha but I guess that was to be expected. I seem to have forgotten where everything goes but can't be bothered to read 69000 words to figure it out so uh you can just have them randomly.

Oh, I should be starting editing soon, but I don't know whether will tell you if I change the chapters. So yeah, if you've read this and would like to read a revised version, it should all be nice and grammatically correct after June.

Thanks again :D


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